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pellucid-constellations · 3 months

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If It All Fell (3)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: Angst (obvi)

a/n: It's about to reallyyyy get started in the next part (I promise there will be fluff in this fic eventually). Thank you so much for reading and interacting with this series ❤️❤️ I love writing it!!

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ☆ Part 4 ☼

Series Masterlist

Mor’s fingers slid along book spines as she circled the room. A fire crackled and popped beneath the mantle, providing ambiance as the blonde retold another story of your life. You, unsure how to move about the space, remained seated in a rather large chair with an uncomfortably low back.

“Gods, you wouldn’t talk to Rhys for a week. He was beside himself,” she laughed, shaking her head in faint fondness. “You refused to stay at the House out of pure spite. That’s when you and Azriel decided—”

She cut herself off, nearly tripping on the ornate rug under your chair.

“When Azriel and I decided what?” you probed.

Mor bit into her lip, taking a large breath. “That story is for another time.”

You hummed, hiding your frustration beneath a close-lipped grin.

A story for another time.

This was your story, and yet, there were so many pieces that weren’t making sense. There was so much being kept from you—you could feel it—but why? Why did Mor omit some things and freely speak of others? Why was the topic of Azriel so… taboo?

Your thoughts traveled back to the lunch yesterday, the way Azriel had abruptly vanished. He hadn’t been able to spend even an hour in your presence. The rest of the meal had been tense, with Cassian attempting to save your feelings by sending subtle jabs Azriel’s way and Mor shooting daggers at the swinging door.

Maybe you and Azriel were enemies? It certainly didn’t feel that way whenever he was around. Granted, you’d only seen him twice since waking up, but those two times weren’t filled with hostility or ire, were they?

Mor moved over to the window. You clenched the cushion of your chair between tense fingers.

Did Azriel not like you?

The thought sent daggers through your chest, which was odd, considering the man had only spoken about four words to you. But… he had to like you, didn’t he? When Mor spoke of your family, of your place in this court, she always included Azriel. He was always some part of the stories of your life.

But that didn’t mean the two of you were friends.

That didn’t mean he liked being around you.

Perhaps the Inner Circle was attempting to rewrite history—reform a bond between friends that had long been burned. Maybe the two of you had constant disagreements and fights and the rest of them were sick of it, using your lack of memories to drive you back together. That would certainly explain Azriel’s disappearance yesterday.

The conclusion ate away at you. It ate and ate until you were left feeling hollow. How could one person—a person you didn’t even know—be affecting you so much? There was a vast array of other problems you should be dwelling on.

“He doesn't like me very much, does he?”

You hadn’t meant to ask the question; the words had spilled out without permission.

Mor’s head jutted back in confusion, her mouth opening in the shape of a scoff. “Who?”

“Azriel,” you clarified, suddenly feeling so small in the large, confusing chair you sat in. “I know I lost my memory, but I still grasp context clues, Mor. You’re always hesitant to speak of him and he didn’t exactly seem overjoyed to be spending time with me yesterday. Listen—” you held your hand up, stopping Mor from giving you the excuses you could see welling up “—I don’t care, okay? I don’t care how bad it all sounds. I just want to know the truth. I can’t… I can’t even begin to figure this all out without the complete truth.”

The conflicted twist of Mor’s brow was glaringly apparent. She brought her fingers together at her waistline, fidgeting with them in what you assumed to be a nervous habit.

A lick of sympathy made you add, “Come on, it can’t be that bad, right? Whatever it is?”

A pause.

“I don’t know if I should be the one to explain this all to you,” Mor said, struggling over each word.

“It seems like no one else will.” You stood from your chair, ignoring the strange sense of loss from your departure. Did the rest of this room smell so much of cedar and night-kissed air? “Please, Mor. I’m so confused. I know more about myself, about you and I—you’ve done a wonderful job at that—but… I need to know everything. There’s a chance that I… a chance that I don’t get my memories back. I need to know who I am. Every part.”

You brought your hands up to grasp at Mor’s, pleading with her through your gaze. Your friend—she had become your friend—stared back at you with so much disparaged hope.

“You could still—”

“Please, Mor.”

You squeezed her fingers.

She closed her eyes and sighed.

“Y/n, Azriel—”

Something crashed, causing Mor to yank your hands back until you were secure behind her, her body acting as a shield between you and the door. There was another bang, a panicked voice, and then heavy footsteps. Your back pressed against the glass window, a chill sinking into your bones.

“—in her and Az’s reading room.”

The door slammed open not a moment later, Cassian bursting through in a frazzled state. He quickly scanned the room before landing on you and Mor. He locked eyes with the blonde, gave a quick nod, almost indistinguishable, and then turned his gaze to you.

“You want to meet our High Lord?”

You could feel the tension the moment you stepped into the room.

Shadows battled for purchase around Azriel, his fists clenched at his sides as he stood opposite Rhysand. A desk separated them, filled with papers and books and notes. Neither made any indication that they had heard your group enter the office until Rhysand shot his eyes to the corner of his vision.

Azriel sighed, deep and menacing, as if Rhysand had insulted him gravely.

But he hadn’t said anything.

Rhysand’s jaw shifted to the side.

Cassian spoke, and it was then you realized his arm was pressing you back into the doorway. “Everything good in here?”

Mor stood ground behind you, keeping a firm hand on your back.

“Everything is fine,” Rhysand replied, steady voice matching his steady gaze on the male in front of him.

“You both sure? Because you told me to get her and I don’t know if having two Illyrians—”

“Everything is fine, Cassian,” Rhysand repeated. Some of the tension left him. With a sharp look in Azriel’s direction, he turned his attention toward you, craning his head to the side to catch you behind Cassian’s broad shoulders. “Hello, y/n.”

A nervous breath left you; whether it was from the hostility in the room or the greeting from the High Lord, you didn’t know. When Cassian nodded to Azriel and moved to the side, allowing you a full entrance, you glanced around quickly and caught the eyes of each person once, and then twice.

You licked your drying lips. “High Lord,” you responded, bending at the knee and lowering your gaze.

You had no recollection as to how long a bow was supposed to last. There was just some intrinsic part of you that knew the gesture was needed. Rhysand was a High Lord and you were… well, you weren’t sure what your title was—if you even had one. What your place was within this court.

No one had deigned to tell you.

When you rose after a seemingly acceptable amount of time, you were met with a still silence. All of the previous tension in the room melted away to create space for the stifling pause that permeated the air. Rhysand blinked at you, and then blinked again.

And then he had to cover his mouth because he began laughing.

A new emotion you could not remember experiencing invaded every inch of your body. It took you several seconds of enduring Rhysand’s muffled laugh before you recognized it as mortification. Pure, unadulterated mortification.

You clasped your hands together in front of your waist and took a harrowing breath in, trying to fight back the sudden burn in your nose.

Azriel, who had been watching you with careful grace since you stepped out from behind Cassian, turned his head with a sharp snap and growled at his High Lord. The leather around his fingers, placed there to keep his blazing siphons in place, groaned as his fists constricted once more.

Rhysand banished the argument before it began, attempting to wipe away the laugh with his fingers. “I’m—I’m sorry, y/n,” he chuckled, collecting himself further, tucking his hands in his pockets. “I know this is not funny for you, but… but I have never seen you do that a day in your life. And you have met several High Lords.”

You glanced around to gauge the reactions of the others in the room, finding Cassian with his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek to fight a smile and Mor staring up at the ceiling, in the midst of that same battle. Some of the embarrassment fled, but it was only replaced with confusion.

“I.. I’m sorry, I just assumed—because you’re a High Lord, I assumed your station required—”

Rhysand shook his head and gently corrected your rambling. “In a public space, perhaps. Maybe not in Velaris. And certainly not from someone I consider to be a sister.”

A sister.

Your family.

Right.

“I’m sure Helion would welcome the greeting,” Cassian huffed out from beside you, his words laced with an unrealized laugh. “Especially since the last time you greeted the High Lord of Day you told him to never again try baking in his entire immortal life. Not even a hello.”

Whatever discussion was occurring prior to your entrance was long forgotten. Even Azriel cracked a smile at that, and the room was filled with more than Rhysand’s laughs. The sounds, although new for you, had a smile tugging at your own lips. It was the first time since you woke up that no one was frowning at you, or fighting off tears, or storming away in bouts of shadows.

In fact, the feeling was so jarring you found yourself laughing as well—a tentative laugh, but one of the first that felt real.

It was a few more moments of joyous forgetting before silence took over again, but it was a lighter silence this time. Rhysand motioned to the chair facing his desk, and you took the seat, Cassian standing tall behind you, Mor positioning herself on the arm.

Azriel remained standing just a step away.

His face was void of a smile once again.

Rhysand cleared his throat. “It seems wrong to introduce myself now, but I must ask that you call me Rhys—or Rhysand, if I’ve really done something to piss you off. But not High Lord.” When you only nodded in agreement, he looked down at his desk, something lost in his eye. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around for you sooner. I’ve been researching—trying to figure this out.”

“I know. Thank you, Hi—Rhys,” you corrected. Cassian squeezed your shoulder from behind. A shadow followed the movement, slinking down from the Illyrian’s hand to loop around your neck.

“There isn’t much literature on witches, unfortunately. Not here. I’ve had Amren, another member of our court, looking through what she knows. She—well, she knows a great deal about many things that we don’t understand.” Rhysand sighed. Humor left him. “The consensus so far is that anything done by a witch can only be undone by that witch. Meaning—”

“Meaning there’s no hope unless we can find her,” you finished for him. “But—” your brows furrowed “—I’m the only one who saw her. Mor’s told me about that day. No one else saw the witch but me and now I…”

The burning in your nose was back, this time accompanied by the pounding in your head and the pressure in your chest. Both had become constants in your life. A sickening sort of panic twisted its way through you, leaving your breath unsteady even as Cassian ran a comforting hand over your shoulders and Mor offered silent encouragement at your side.

The only thing keeping your tears at bay were the shadows that had sought you out, their presence tickling your skin and serving as a distraction. That, and the azure glow continuously catching the corner of your eye as Azriel clenched and unclenched his fist.

“There are two avenues we can take,” Rhys offered with a kind, calm smile. “I am able to see into minds, oftentimes past what even you might be cognizant of. If you allow me to, I can enter your memories and take a look… maybe see the witch or something useful.”

You could make it worse.

You remembered bits and pieces from the day you were attacked, but some things were clearer than others. You had no idea who said what, but you knew someone had warned Rhys against this—someone had wrapped themselves around you and kept him far, far away.

“Would that hurt?” you asked.

A trembling exhale fell from the shadowsinger’s lips. You turned to look at him, but he kept his eyes forward.

“I would do my best to ensure that it didn’t,” Rhys comforted, his own eyes darting from Azriel and back to you. “At any sign of discomfort, I would stop. The goal would just be to see where your memories lay, if they were accessible at all. And to see if there was anything hidden about the witch.”

You nodded, trying to reconvene privately as you stared down at your fingers.

He would just take a look. Maybe it would somehow stop this incessant pounding in your head or maybe he would be able to see the memory of the witch. Maybe your memories were there, and you just didn’t have access to them yourself.

Maybe, maybe, maybe…

“If you aren’t comfortable with that—” Azriel’s low voice cut through your rampage of thoughts. “—we still have several people looking for information. As spymaster, I can assure you that all personnel available are on the hunt in Spring Court.”

You looked up, and Azriel met your eye for the first time since that disastrous lunch. Something felt like it fractured within you, a desolation so sharp it stung, but just as abruptly, that feeling washed away. It felt as if it seeped through some crack only to be reined in and slammed behind several locked doors.

You rubbed at your chest in an attempt to soothe the ache the feeling left. Azriel flickered his gaze down to watch your hand, clenched his jaw, and then looked back up. Softer this time—an apology you couldn’t comprehend.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “It means a lot that you are spending so much time on this. I—I can’t begin to thank you fully.”

Some of the conviction you had grown so used to seeing on Azriel’s face crumbled. He took a half-step towards you, a seemingly unconscious movement.

“Anything.” His voice was so soft it was almost a whisper. “Y/n, anything.”

It wasn't until Rhys spoke again that you were snapped out of the trance Azriel had locked you in. “I cannot guarantee I will see anything, if you choose to allow me in,” the High Lord explained. When you looked over at him, a sad smile lingered. “Which is why an alternative may be needed.”

“Of course,” you nodded, an encouragement for him to continue.

Rhys pushed his fingers together as they sat atop his desk. “We would take you to Day Court. Helion—the High Lord Cassian mentioned—is skilled in spell-cleaving. He may be able to undo some of what the witch did, if that’s possible. Or just give us a better read on the situation.”

Mor startled from beside you, “Rhys—”

“It wouldn’t be like last time,” Rhys placated, once again glancing toward the shadowsinger. “It wouldn’t.”

“Couldn’t Feyre—”

“She doesn’t have that much control over each of the court powers yet. We—we tried.”

“Feyre?” you asked, but the question was directed to no one and no one answered it.

“It’s a brilliant plan, isn’t it?” Azriel spit out, vitrole tainting each syllable. The heat rose in the room.

Cassian cut in this time, his voice a vibration at the back of your head. “Azriel, maybe—”

You couldn’t focus on anything they were saying as each line spoken left you with more questions, more pieces you couldn’t connect. Azriel was mad, Mor was concerned, Cassian was attempting to play the mediator. You had no idea what role Rhys filled, but you assumed it was the level-headed High Lord who only wanted the best for his court.

But Azriel was too livid and that emotion drowned out all the rest.

It wouldn’t be like last time.

What happened last time?

“I can’t go through that again,” Azriel stressed, his palm now flat on the wood of Rhys’s desk. “We can’t put her through that again.”

But it had sounded like the Night Court was friendly with Day; Cassian made it seem like you were close enough with Helion to make jabs at his cooking.

Put you through what?

“Maybe,” Cassian gritted out, his fingers kneading comfort into your arm. “This isn’t the best discussion to be having. Maybe we start with the first plan and if Rhys can’t find anything, we talk about it.”

Azriel leaned away from the desk, a sharp breath leaving his nose. The shadows that had swarmed around him calmed and flowed along the floor, stopping at your feet. A link between the two of you, it looked like—like a thread or a river or a bridge.

You expected Azriel to leave again, to storm off and avoid this entire situation. You wouldn’t exactly blame him; even with Cassian’s negotiation, there were still so many contingencies and unknowns. This wasn’t simple or clear cut, and it would take a lot of time—time perhaps not so willingly given.

But he didn’t.

Azriel bit back a snarl and pushed back into the shadows, but he didn’t leave.

You felt his eyes on you from the corner of the room, and something within you calmed while something else chafed.

Amidst a soft ringing in your ears, you caught Mor’s low grumble. “At least now we know why they were at each other’s throats when we walked in.”

Cassian scoffed out a disbelieving sound.

And you… you gave in to a few of the tears that had been burning behind your eyes, completely missing that the crack in your chest had returned. Completely missing that it was the cause—emotions that weren't entirely yours influencing the dampness on your cheeks.

Part 4 ☼

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar fanfiction #azriel angst #azriel #azriel fic

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sukunas-wife · 4 months

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you could do something where sukuna and yuji team up to protect their mom/wife when a person is bothering or harassing her, they love her so much that they won't let someone hurt her 🥹💗

Leave Mama Kuna alone 😔

Old Day, because no one was brave enough to confront Sukuna for murder.

Warnings? Murder, in red text a man attempted to force himself on reader, Gore, Blood

It didn't take much to upset Sukuna, he was always looking for a reason to snap at someone and end a life. Sadly his son Yuji was a cock block for murder, and it irked him that he basically had to shake and rile his son up to get angry and then he’d just flat line and “but why don’t we-“ They didn’t agree to often on why a man should die- but in this case they were all agreeing. “Get him daddy!” Yuji yelled, pointing his chubby finger at a man maybe in his early Twenties who had been talking to you while you were trying to pick out Snacks for Yuji. He had wandered off after passing a candy stand and usually you’d send a maid or help to get the necessities but today you wanted to take Yuji out to walk and play and hopefully learn some self preservation, Sukuna, well he was feared and he just wanted to come along to make sure no idiot would try to disrespect you. “Listen, I’m just trying to get some things for my son. Leave while you still can and maybe my husband will let you live.” You smiled nodding at the man who scoffed “Your husband? What is he? a Mercenary? What’s he gonna do to kill me? That’s probably a lie you probably don’t even have a so-” you sighed turning away when Sukuna lifted the man by the neck with one hand twisting him around to face him, “No, I’m your God,” his stare darkened “but I’m not so merciful.” There stood Yuji by his dads leg, “Yeah! You deserve no mercy! That’s my mom you were disrespecting!… Idiot!” You tried not to laugh at Yuji’s extra words and went back to paying the scared vendor for the snacks you had picked out. By the time you looked back the guy was laid out on the floor bloody and probably just barely clinging to life, head being pressed into the dirt being grinded on by Sukuna’s large foot. Yuji was swinging away on his ribs and stomach, for a 7 year old his hits were surprisingly solid.

As the day progressed you had managed to convince Sukuna to have lunch despite the fact he didn’t eat human food. But he watched as Yuji sat beside him slurping away at noodles and his rice topped with diced meat, “Boy’s more human than curse.” Was all Sukuna said when Yuji looked up at him, noodles hanging out his mouth before he slurped them up smiling. “Daddy I gotta Pee.” Sukuna sighed standing up out of the booth, “then go.” “…go with me?” Yuji looked up at his dead with pleading eyes before Sukuna groaned and motioned for him to go, “Fine.” Sukuna was waiting outside the bathroom when he heard a trio, two men and one woman. “That's her isn’t it? She’s the Deity at the Shrine house isn’t she?” One man asked the girl. She just shrugged, “Yeah but I don’t see what’s so special about her? So she had some big curses kid, her body’s probably trashed or something.” “Shut up Kaguya, you're probably just jealous, any man would give anything to lay that woman in their bed. If I had a chance I’d get her pregnant too, look at her, I’d do anything to pull her robes off.” The second guy spoke up, “That’s sick man, she has a husband and kid, Yeah she’s pretty but she’s literally a deity, have some respect.” Kaguya interrupted “She’s probably a slut and maid who just had sex with him and got lucky she got pregnant, she’d probably spread her legs for anyone if they offered a comfortable lif-“ Sukuna’s hands were bloody, in a matter of seconds he had ripped th hearts out of the first man and the girls chest. It hadn't been processed as they managed to look up his blood covered hands. The smirk on his face was sinister and became worse when the second man looked up at him in fear, struggling to scream. He shoved the man’s friend's heart into his mouth like a gag, leaning down with a threatening voice “You’d do best to keep your mouth shut.”

Yuji and you had wandered off from Sukuna when he became surrounded by people bearing gifts to honour him. He was annoyed and even more when he turned to realise both you and Yuji had left his side. You were taking Yuji with you to the shrine house the people had built for you. The eunuchs at the entrance greeted you, stopping to ask if Yuji would be entering with you, which caused him to hold onto the side of your robes and sleeve, you put your hand on his shoulder comforting him, “Yes, this is my son after all.” Entering the shrine, you made your way all the way to the back where you would sit and wait before the doors would open to the public. Yuji was walking around the room looking around until he stopped. You had a wall where all the drawings he’d ever given you while leaving the palace had been framed because “I don wan you to forget me” A young girl came into the room shocked that Yuji was there until you cleared your throat, “oh! Forgive me Lady Y/n, I didn’t know you would be here today.” You waved a hand of dismissal. “I didn’t expect to be here either, but I thought Yuji,” you looked at him, he was staring at the girl in the door, slowly walking to you, his eyes never left her face. He looked serious, a face his dad often wore when something was wrong and he was watching it play out or when he was lost in thought. He turned away from you leaning against your lap standing between you and the girl. “Who the hell is she?” He sounded like a younger version of his dad with his demanding tone and dead stare, his curse word caught you off guard. You tried to form words stopping when you couldn’t, “she’s a servant who works here Yu, what’s wrong?” You leaned trying to get a look at his face, but he wouldn’t turn to look at you, he had his target. The girl became uncomfortable under his stare, “well, him Lady y/n there was an expecting mother who came by begging for a miracle.. the details shouldn’t be explained in front of such a young boy or boy at all really but-“ you held up your hand silencing her. “Bring her into the main room. I'll be out in a minute. I just need to make sure Yuji will be okay here for a few minutes.” She bowed, closing the door, Yuji turned to look at you and he seemed visibly at ease, “Yu.. what’s wrong?” He looked at the door, “She’s funny.. in a bad way..” you didn’t know how to answer. “Alright, I’ll remember that then.” You stood up, setting him on your chair and kneeling in front of him, “Will you be okay here? Alone for a short bit?” He shook his head no while kicking his feet, “Don’t leave me.”

That’s how you ended up with Yuji following quietly behind you when you made your way through the hallways to the main room. He got distracted stopping for a moment to look at a picture, the end of the hallway split two ways. There was a painting of Sukuna holding newborn Yuji, he looked so serious in the painting, when you told Sukuna you wanted it for your shrine he refused to smile saying it wouldn’t look good in the public eye or something along those words. Yuji was pulled out of his day dream when he heard you scream, he ran trying to find you. He froze seeing a man cornering you in the hallway, you were fighting him off the best you could but you couldn’t only do so much against a half curse half man that was attempting to measure up to Sukuna. He was far off from even touching the hem of Ryomen’s robes, but he was an entitled arrogant bastard. When the servant girl came, Yuji saw how she smiled at the scene. Yuji ran in blind, jumping and climbing the man’s back, wrapping his arms around his neck and biting into his shoulder. The man screamed and tried to pull Yuji free. He couldn’t do it alone so the servant girl tried, you fought harder when you saw how she was shaking him around. You broke free from the man's grip pulling Yuji free from her before rushing screaming for Sukuna, all the eunuchs wouldn’t be able to help you. The man grabbed your robes and Yuji fell from your arms, he watched his man lift you by the front of your robes and your hands, nails were digging into his wrist.

Why don’t you use your technique mom!? DO SOMETHING! dads not he- “Domain Expansion” the room went black, there was the sound of a drip and everything was dark, it felt hard to breathe, “Cleave.” Your eyes widened before you shoved the man off of you. You heard the squelch and thud of a body, and the crashing and cracking of the walls to your shrine being torn apart. Turning to look you saw Yuji, his hand sign was opposite his fathers, but he looked livid. His face was covered in markings mirroring his fathers more human form. You wanted to say something, but you turned to the gaping wall. The Cursed man was laying in the dusty street, he was sliced deeply but not fatally. The servant didn’t stand a chance. She was sliced finely for betrayal. Watching a crowd gather you pulled Yuji with you to see if the cursed man was alive. He was laying there, unfocused, he saw you and yelled “ILL FUCKING KILL YOU AND YOUR DAMN CHILD I AM THE ONE DESTINED FOR GREAT I WILL BE THE KING OF CURSES YOU BOTH WILL DIE AT MY HANDS,” before forcing himself up, chest, arms, and waist crossed with deep gashes.

He tried to lift his hands only to realise they weren’t there, his arms were gone. Yuji was mad that a man would try to take advantage of his mother, but as long as his father wasn’t there he would be there, but for now, a low chuckled rumbled behind the man, “You’ll need your hands to even think about laying them on my wife and son.” Sukuna wrapped his arm around the man from behind, large hand squeezing his neck, a low grumble, “You aren’t strong, you’re a fool and your brain is a pile of shit. You deserve only the worst death, but I’m having a little fun here so I’ll make this slow and painful.” Uraume approached Sukuna holding out his staff. Sukuna stabbed it into the ground piercing the man on the pointed edges, letting him sink down until it pierced through his chest. There the cursed man screamed and no matter how much he squirmed and begged for mercy Sukuna would push him down further. The man begged for mercy, for him to stop, “Did you listen to my wife when she asked you to stop?” He took the man’s jaw in his hand forcing him to look up at him, the pressure slowly fracturing his jaw as he shook his head no trying to profusely apologise. Sukunas nails dug into his face before he let go, “Did you have mercy on my wife when you grabbed her like this?” His large hand crushed the man's throat, nails digging into his skin, blood flowing, “WHEN MY WIFE TRIED TO PUSH YOU AWAY DID YOU WALK AWAY? NO YOU TRIED TO TOUCH HER LIKE THIS.” Sukuna placed his hand on the man’s chest, “dishonourable actions will be paid for with blood.” The crowd was watching when Sukuna drove his hand into the man’s chest squeezing his heart in his chest, the man screamed and gurgled as he spat up blood. Sukuna ripped out his heart throwing it on the ground and ripping off his head crushing his skull in his head, “Let this be a warning to every human in the vicinity, in this city in the existence of this time, that any man or woman who would act to lift a hand against my child or wife, your blood will be spilled to atone your sins.”

The crowd quickly cleared out and Sukuna turned to you, Yuji still had the markings on his face, his eyes were red. Sukuna nodded, holding an arm out to you. Pushing Yuji ahead of you, you started to tear up, hugging your husband’s side. Yuji was hugging your side. “Ryo-“ he shushed you using a hand to press your face against his chest. Burying your face against his hot skin your body wanted to tremble while you cried into the comforting of your husband but his presence was reassuring as surprising as it might sound. He rubbed his warm hand up and down your back “I’m here now.” He rested his chin on top of your head, he looked down at Yuji pulling him into his other side ruffling his hair. “You did good kid.” Yuji still looked serious before he leaned into his dads side with a slight smile. He went over to hug you, you took hold of him and he didn’t let go until you stopped sniffling. He smiled up at you, puffy eyes and red cheeks, Sukuna snickered, pinching your cheek making a joke, Yuji’s bright smile didn’t falter, “I still think you’re pretty.” Your sudden laugh made your husband and son laugh. Kneeling down you pinched both of Yuji’s cheeks lightly as he laughed, before cupping his face in both hands bringing him close to kiss both of cheeks and forehead calling him “My Little Protector.” He smiled with pride before you got up smiling at Sukuna, he sides eyed you before sighing leaning to the side giving you his face, “and my big hero.” Cupping his face you brought him into a kiss and he smirked against your lips when Yuji let out a loud “eeeewwww”

“Cmon Yu,” you held your hand out to him and he took it happily walking while holding your hand, “I’ll be stronger next time!”

Tag:

@sakuxxi @mercymccann @simpforyoubitch @certainduckanchor @domainofmarie @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @satorisgirl l @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 7

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ceilidho · 5 months

Text

prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 3. (read 1, 2) tags: dubcon

The Christmas party presents a whole new challenge in trying to ward Johnny off.

It’s hard because at first you almost gravitate towards him, weirdly enchanted by his ugly sweater with red reindeer on the sleeves. It’s only when he finally spots you—and you shudder when you notice the way his eyes scan across the crowd of other employees, seeking you out—and he practically lights up that you snap back to reality.

He blazes a path towards you like a heat seeking missile, dodging around your other coworkers. You stand there awkwardly as he cuts across the room, wondering if maybe you should’ve just texted your manager some excuse about feeling sick and stayed home. Too late now though.

Fortunately for you, the assistant manager intercepts before Johnny’s able to make it halfway across the room, stepping between the two of you like they don’t even realize they’ve interrupted anything. There’s a split second where you can see Johnny wrestle with the urge to push them aside, fury clear in his eyes. Maybe only to you. The assistant manager opens their mouth and talks like nothing’s amiss, like it isn’t clear that Johnny is only a handful of seconds away from causing serious harm.

Then it passes; recedes into the dark. Johnny’s blue eyes go pellucid again, unbothered by the real world. The smile that spreads across his face seems sincere; if you hadn’t been watching him that entire time, you might not have even thought that he’d harboured any violence inside of him.

You saw it though. You saw it.

It makes sense in the context of his background. You’d never given the ex-military thing much thought, but every so often you can almost feel the ghost of its presence in the back of your mind. When his reflexes kick in or the gleam in his eyes grows dark. He doesn’t ever talk about his past life in specifics, only grand overtures meant to distract anyone listening, but what he does reveal sometimes makes your stomach clench.

You swallow and turn back to the conversation with your other coworkers, steadfastly avoiding Johnny’s eyes peeking over the assistant manager’s head.

The breakroom is decked out in cheap Christmas decorations, a fiber-optic tree set up in the corner, iridescent bristles shifting colours with every blink. Someone passes you a vaguely alcoholic drink and you sip at it nervously, reaching the bottom of your first cup faster than you anticipated.

Your secret Santa gift is on a table just outside the breakroom in the hall, along with all the other gifts. Something about it draws your eyes several times throughout the evening. Maybe something you saw but didn’t register. It’s hard to keep focused on the conversation happening around you when your attention oscillates between Johnny and the gift table, but you respond hastily when someone prompts you to answer.

It comes to light when someone clinks a spoon against their glass and directs everyone to gather in the middle of the room. Two of the warehouse guys awkwardly try to bring the table into the room without knocking any of the gifts onto the floor. There are a few casualties, but when they manage to twist it enough to get it through the door, someone pulls up a chair to stand on and read off all of the names to hand out the gifts.

Several people coo when you’re revealed as the recipient of Johnny’s gift. There’s no reason for it to come as a shock, but your stomach clenches anyway.

He stands practically right up against you when you open it. You know the second you unwrap it that the delicate bottle of perfume in your hands must have been in the three figures. All you did was get someone a handmade mug from a local craft fair. He stares at you when you unwrap it, beaming when you give him a very controlled thank you because the alternative is screaming that this is way too expensive for you to keep.

“Ye should put it on,” he tells you, breathing just a little heavier. “Really want ta smell it on ye.”

You don’t know what possesses you to give it a spritz on your wrist, letting him guide your hand to dab it against the base of your throat. It’s intimate enough that his eyes follow the movement of your throat when you swallow, mouth going dry. They drag up to your lips when they part, a hesitant thanks hanging off your tongue.

“Jesus Christ, get a room already,” someone near you murmurs, but it doesn’t take long for their attention to slip off you as the next gift recipient is announced. Not Johnny though.

Your mouth snaps shut.

He hovers at your back for the rest of the gift handouts, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him. You flinch at his bitten off groans whenever you so much as fidget, rubbing against him. Shaking him off seems like a hopeless task until someone asks if you have a lozenge, giving you an excuse to take them to your locker.

You can feel him stalking you like a shark around the breakroom when you chat with some of your other coworkers, the smile on your face becoming forced.

“Did’ya know Johnny actually—oh, sorry, burped—he actually paid me…to get your name?” your coworker giggles, absolutely sloshed. You’re tipsy too, but her words make you go a bit cold.

“Pardon?” you ask. The red cup crackles when your fingers tighten around it.

“He paid me. Fifty dollars. Jus’ to get your name for the…for the stupid Santa thing. The secret Santa.”

You can feel the way your mouth hangs open, just a bit. Her words echo in your head, the conversation long over. You let her prattle on, still stuck on the thought of Johnny paying someone off just for the opportunity to give you a gift. The longer you stand there and chat with your coworkers, the more difficult it gets to look normal.

“Isn’t that something?” she prompts, nudging you with an elbow. Even the slightest touch hits you like a battering ram.

“Yeah,” you parrot back, “it’s something.”

Perhaps you’re overdue for a conversation with Johnny about boundaries. More than overdue. The package has been signed, sealed, and delivered. It was overdue months ago, the day you started working at the same store as him. By now, you should’ve quit or transferred, hell you should’ve yelled at him that one time he stopped you in the garden section to apply his own personal Chapstick to your lips (you don’t think about how you’d bitten them raw from staring across the row of potted flowers as he stacked bag after bag of fertilizer onto a customer’s pallet before pushing it to their car, his sleeves rolled up and thick biceps on display the whole time).

Can anyone blame you for being confused? It’s obvious what he’s offering. He does nothing to hide it. It’s also obvious that it would be, unequivocally, a terrible idea to take him up on it.

Maybe you just need some fresh air. You make an excuse and peel off from the rest of the group, heading for the door. Someone lurches out of the shadows in the corner before you can make it out.

“Look, bonnie—mistletoe,” Johnny teases, not letting you so much as glance up before snatching you by the hips and reeling you into him.

The kiss he plants on you is filthy and wet. Open-mouthed too so he can slip you his tongue, licking over the roof of your mouth. Sucking your bottom lip when you can’t help the whimper that slips out and he breaks away for only a split second to whisper oh fuck under his breath. Your mind reels when he dives back in for another kiss. He’s as good of a kisser as you might have expected, messy but forceful, threading a hand into your hair to hold you in place. The way he roots you in place licks at something delicious inside of you, a secret, buried urge.

Johnny finally pulls away when he can no longer convincingly ignore the way you push on his shoulders and squirm in his arms. His lips are wet when he pulls back, a thin strand of saliva clinging between your lips. It breaks when he runs his tongue across the wetness.

Someone whistles and Johnny grins from ear to ear, bashful under the joy brimming out of him. You stumble away the second his hands loosen on your hips, wiping a hand across your mouth.

“Good for you, John!” someone shouts through cupped hands and several of your coworkers cackle.

This time you actually manage to make it out the door and down the hall to the employee restroom. You spend the next few minutes washing your hands until your fingertips go pruney under the warm water and you try to think of anything except the texture of Johnny’s lips.

You touch your lips no less than three times. Each time, your fingers come back trembling. It’s what you’d long expected from Johnny, from someone that looks like him, like the physical embodiment of ‘for a good time, call…’ written in lipstick on the back of a gas station bathroom door.

The last thing you want to do is give him an inch, throw him a bone—actually lead him on, as your coworker might say. Still, your finger trembles on your lip. You know he’d make it good. Even if he didn’t, looking like that, who could blame you? The thought makes you wince, conscience of objectifying him, but haven’t you been subject to worse by now? You’re due far more than some measly peck for how many times he’s slapped your ass, stolen your scrunchie (two so far), or said something nasty to you.

It’s not hard to track him down when he’s always hovering nearby, this time just off by the watercooler with your manager and a few other coworkers. The hand not holding a drink is buried deep in his pocket, the smile on his face strained by a mask of politeness; you can tell at a glance that he’s only playing at civility, that he’d rather be anywhere else but chatting with his boss and colleagues at the office party.

When he spots you approaching the group of them, his eyes widen, excitement bleeding back into them. It takes your breath away.

“Ah, there’s your other half, Johnny,” your manager says and you freeze.

“Aye, so she is. She’s a good little kisser, did’ye see?” Johnny gushes, pulling you in by the waistband of your pants. You’re a bit too tipsy to protest when he slips his hand around your waist.

It clicks into place. When he pulls you into his side, it feels like slotting into a space made just for you, unwelcome or not. You don’t even notice if your other coworkers laugh or not, fixated on his eyes. He can hardly pull them away from you. Every long shift waking up on the sofa in the breakroom with Johnny standing over you, eyes glinting like a predator’s in the woods, and every coworker’s joke about being Johnny’s girl feels like it’s been leading to this. You have to know what it’d be like.

“Um…Johnny?” you start, tugging on his shirt gently.

“Yeah, hen? What’s it?”

“Can we…um…do you wanna go somewhere more private?”

His breathing stops, body frozen against yours. “Ye serious, kitty? You’re not joking?”

You shake your head. “Just…just one time? Maybe?”

The first sign of movement from him is a full body shudder that nearly makes you step back. The frazzled look in his eyes borders on manic, flitting around the room looking for the nearest exit. Johnny tosses the group some hasty, poorly worded goodbye (you think he even flubs your manager’s name) and tears away from them, you still glued to his side. Someone giggles as you leave. You can’t pay them any mind though, not with how frantically Johnny pulls you out of the breakroom and down the hall, his long strides nearly making you trip over your feet.

“Johnny—slow down—”

“Hen, I’ll carry ye over my shoulder to the closet, I swear.”

He nearly barrels you over with how forcefully he pushes you into the closet, hot mouth latched onto the side of your throat. You hear the sound of the lock clicking behind him. The closet is swathed in darkness, only the barest hint of light bleeding through from underneath the doorway. It’s hardly enough for you to see anything in front of you, but that almost doesn’t matter with how Johnny curls around you, his body caging you in against the shelving behind you.

“Please, please, fuck, I cannae believe it, fuck—” Johnny groans into your neck, a pathetic desperate sound that you’ve never heard from him before. He even keens a bit. “Oh Jesus, baby, I’ve been—dinnae if ye knew or not, but I’ve been fuckin’ obsessed with ye for ages, Christ.”

You let out a laugh in disbelief, embarrassed by how breathless it sounds. “I—oh—I f-figured.”

His hands drag up and down your back, tugging at the fabric of your shirt and practically ripping it out of where it’s been tucked into your pants. If you had buttons, you think you’d burst straight off, zip off the walls and roll under one of the shelves. Johnny’s eagerness bleeds through—months of barely concealed lust unravelling right in front of you, his hands practically shaking when they grope along your sides and under your breasts. His fingers dig almost painfully into your flesh until you whimper and he murmurs a broken apology into your neck.

“Wha’d’ye want, baby? I can—fuck, anything ye want, I promise—” Johnny begs, the sound almost pitiful. It makes your pussy ache.

“Your—your mouth—”

The speed with which he drops to his knees almost makes you flinch. His kneecaps are only saved by the carpeted floor, present nowhere else in the employee section apart from the supply closets. His hands go to the zipper and button on your jeans, yanking viciously, almost snarling when they don’t immediately come undone. When you try to help him, he bares his teeth, more animalistic than you’ve ever seen him before.

“Do these fuckin’ pants even come off?” Johnny growls, giving another yank. You hear something rip and wince.

He manages to wrench your pants down until they pool around your ankles, only enough concentration left in him to pull one leg out and drape it over his shoulder.

“Johnny—my underwear—holy shit—” you gasp when he mashes his face into the crotch of your panties, laving his tongue over the fabric. You can feel the heat of it through the gusset of your underwear, each desperate lick trying unsuccessfully to pull them to the side.

“Fuck, s’ry, baby, I’ll take ‘em off,” he apologizes, voice muffled where his mouth is still pressed to your pussy. Reluctant to move even an inch away from you.

It takes him a couple more seconds before he’s able to move away just long enough to pull your underwear down as well, struggling with getting it over the leg still draped over his shoulder and nearly losing his patience twice over.

He takes to eating you out like something he’s done for years—naturally. Crudely. Eyes fluttering shut when he drags his tongue from your slit to your clit, unabashedly enjoying himself. His moans drag through you, making you nearly shake right out of your skin. His chin is already wet when you glance down. He spreads your inner lips with two fingers to open you fully to his gaze, lapping at your clit until he can hardly pull his mouth away from your cunt.

Johnny drags one of your hands from his hair to cradle the side of his face, turning into your palm to take a deep inhale. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, eyes several degrees hotter when they meet yours through the curtain of his lashes.

“Fuckin’ smell like mine too,” he growls. You jolt at his words. He draws a finger into his mouth and gives it a suck, making you trill.

“D-don’t get any ideas,” you gasp, other hand threading through his hair now, turnabout fair play. “S’just a—ah, ah—a one-time t-thing.”

“Aye, one time, one time,” he repeats. “Gonna make it so good f’r ye, baby.”

The two fingers spreading you open push against your entrance insistently. The initial stretch makes you tug at his hair, flushing when all that does is make him moan, mouth hung open sluttily. He looks even more strung out than you, eyes dark and heady. He’s also never looked more attractive.

Shelves jab into the small of your back, the ache growing the longer he keeps you like that with one leg slung over his shoulder, your knees almost buckling. Impossible to concentrate on the voice in your head screaming that this is a bad idea, not when he runs his tongue over your clit and sucks. Not when you’re forced to clamp a palm over your mouth to drown out your sounds.

The press of a third finger into you makes you flinch and yank at his hair, harder this time. Hard enough for Johnny to back off, an apology muttered into your wetness. The two splitting you are more than enough, you think, a bit wildly. He shouldn’t be prepping you for anything more. There’s a furrow to his brows though, a bit of frustration wedged in there. Like putting up with your complaints annoys him just a bit.

“John—c’mon, please, not so loud,” you beg.

He pumps his fingers into you, eyes trained on the spot where they disappear. The look in his eyes borders on reverent. “Always mouthin’ off, huh? Even when I’m getting ye off? On my knees ‘n everything?”

“There are p-people outside,” you hiss, clamping your hand back down over your mouth when he curls his fingers and presses up into you.

“Yeah?” The question sounds rhetorically, almost a challenge. The smile on his lips goes wicked sharp. “God, we wouldnae want ‘em ta hear, huh? What ye pulled me away from the party for?”

You don’t know why that’s what sets you off, but it does, eyes watering with the force of your orgasm. Back arched. Your head aches from where you knocked it back into the shelf behind you. Johnny groans when you clench around his fingers.

It’s a few seconds before you feel like you can speak again. The first thing you can utter is a hiss when Johnny laps at your slit again, far too sensitive for him to still be touching you.

“You can, ah…you can let me go now,” you pant. Coming back to your body takes an age, legs still trembling, held up by Johnny’s hands alone.

His fingers grip harder into your flesh. You stare down at him.

“Oh, pretty baby,” Johnny coos, eyes black with desire, “we’re jus’ gettin’ started.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ikea soap #soap x reader #soap/reader #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap mactavish #soap x you

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bruisedboys · 4 months

Note

peter parker and “is that my shirt?” prompt would be so cute!

congrats on 6k

thank u angel! hope u like this!! join the celebration

tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

Peter’s missed you so much he actually feels kind of sick. He’s practically buzzing as he unlocks the apartment door and lugs his suitcase inside.

“Angel?”

There’s a loud and very cute squeal from down the hall. Rapid footsteps, and then you appear in your pyjamas, beaming bright as the sun, looking like the prettiest thing Peter’s ever seen.

“Peter!” You squeal, a ball of excitement. “Baby. Oh my gosh.” You cross the room and throw your arms around his neck. Peter laughs, his chest flooding with warmth, and hugs you back twice as strong.

“Hi, honey,” he says, lovelorn. You smell amazing. You look like an angel. You’re squeezing him to death. He’s missed you so much he could cry. “Holy moly, I missed you so much.”

You giggle, turn your face into the side of his head and drag your nose along his jaw. “I missed you more,” you say, lips hot on his skin.

A shiver runs down Peter’s spine. He’s only had you back for a half a minute and you’ve already got him shivering? Typical. “Impossible,” he tell you. He runs his hands down your back and up again as if to prove to himself you’re really there.

You laugh and pull back, bouncing on your toes, to look him in the eye. You’re so, so beautiful. Somehow prettier than when he left you, which seemed impossible but apparently isn’t, not for you.

You reach up and push a lock of hair from his eyes. Peter’s hypnotised. He doesn’t get how one girl can be so achingly lovely, so pretty and so sweet, but you manage it. He slides his hands down to your waist, feeling like he might explode if he doesn’t touch every inch of you. It’s then that he recognises the familiar fabric of your shirt. He looks down.

“Hey, is that my shirt?” He asks, raising his eyebrows. He nudges you backwards with his hips to get a better look. It is his shirt. His favourite one, which he didn’t pack for his trip because it suspiciously went missing the day before he left. “It is!” He exclaims, pinching at your side. “You had it this whole time?”

You giggle at his prodding, and try twisting yourself out of the way. Peter keeps a firm grip on you, hand spread over your ribs, his glare full of accusatory heat.

“I’m sorry!” You say, giggling like an idiot when he pinches you some more. “I missed you, okay? Is that such a crime?”

Peter makes a face at you but his heart’s soaring. “Well, if you count theft as crime then yeah, I would say so.”

You huff. “You’re so dramatic!”

“I’m dramatic?” Peter feigns offence, pulling his head back incredulously. “You’re the one who stole my—!”

Your lips land on his before he can finish his sentence. His words are lost to your mouth. You push up into the kiss, fervent and hot. Your fingers curl into his collar and brush over the column of his throat, and Peter forgets everything else. He kisses you back just as hard, one arm hooked around your waist and the other bent between your chests to hold your jaw.

“Never mind,” he says between kisses. “You can keep the shirt, baby.”

You laugh against his mouth.

2K notes · View notes

benkeibear · 1 month

Text

⋆꙳✧༄ Fearplay

꒰ ͜͡➸ You can run but you can't hide from your lover. You're nothing but a little bunny for his amusement until you're trapped and become his toy for pleasure as you shake in fear like a little leaf.

❖ Character: Sukuna

❖ Reader: female | AFAB

❖ Wordcount: 2498

❖ WARNINGS: Sub!reader, consensual noncon (safeword is mentioned but not used), fearplay, hunter and prey vibe, mean Sukuna, no prep, clit slapping/pinching, double penetration, anal, degradation and petnames, creampies, aftercare

The sound of your heartbeat thumping along with the soft steps of your bare feet across the tiles of this palace were the only things you could hear as you started running from your lover. Sukunas smirk was twisted with a sick fascination as your trembling legs carried you at such speed - but no matter how fast or far you run, he will always catch you. When he rose from his throne, you heard him chuckle, heavy steps following yours and you started breathing harder at the realization that he *will* get to you eventually. “I should give up, perhaps he won't go too rough if I surrender willingly,” you thought to yourself, but you shook the thought from your mind just as fast as it appeared. It was your idea after all, wanting to be chased and made to submit, yet you feared what he would do to you once he caught you.

With quick steps, you ran towards the library to hide away, feeling like hunted prey as you barricaded yourself in the smallest nook you found. Your heart was beating in a steady rhythm like a war drum and your breath eventually eavened out when minutes passed without hearing the thundering steps of the huge man. Sukunas steps were slow and calculated, knowing all your secret little hiding spots, so it was only a matter of time until he found you, or until his patience snapped and he took apart the entire palace so he could get to you.

The door creaked open slowly and you could see him enter the huge room with a small grin plastered on his face. “Come out, brat. I can hear you breathing,” he called out calmly, but there was a hint of danger in his voice. Unsure if he spoke the truth, you clasped your hands over your nose and mouth, willing yourself to hold your breath just to be sure, but his strong legs walked over to the direction you were hiding in. “Your heartbeat is giving you away, like a scared little rabbit.” His voice was mocking now as he simply lifted the table and threw it against a nearby shelf. The loud noise made you squeak and he crouched down to your eye level. “I found you,” Sukuna mused and his grin looked almost predatory when he held one hand out for you to take. “Come out and I promise I'll be gentle.” He cooed with fake sympathy, but you knew better than to trust him, so you quickly escaped your little hiding spot and ran past him.

His laugh echoed through the entire palace, mocking you as you took off running once again. The way he was so eerily calm scared you more than his usual blinding rage, but you saw a vein pop on his temple when you ran past him, knowing that you'd only aggravated him more and if he gets to you now, he will break you entirely - enjoying to watch you fall apart into a million pieces. Sukuna stepped out of the library and into the seemingly endless hallway where you were still running and it amused him. Taking a deep breath, he charged after you, only to rip away one of the carpets beneath your feet as you stepped on it, successfully tripping you. A small scream escaped your lips when the carpet was ripped away beneath your feet and your cheek was met with the cold tiles of the floor. Sukuna loomed over you with a wolfish grin, but just as he leaned over you, you kicked his face with all your strength, taking him off guard. “You fucking-” he cursed out and held his now bleeding nose while you scrambled to your feet, stumbling away as fast as you could towards the exit that led to the beautiful gardens. Your lover didn't even try to run after you, slow steps followed your hurried ones, but you didn't care, not when your escape was so close.

The moment you reached the door, you realized why he didn't run after you. While you were hiding in the library, Sukuna made sure the doors were locked or barricaded to block every single escape route. Frantically you kept throwing your body against the door, opening it inch by agonizing inch, but you felt his presence before it was enough to fit through. The shiver that ran down your spine left you freezing and unable to escape any further. “Are you done trying to run away?” His voice was eerily calm and it only served to scare you further. With pleading eyes, you looked up at the man in front of you, all four arms crossed, as he licked his lips upon watching you shiver. He looked like a solid mountain the way he towered over you and just anyone and you knew you had no chance to get past him, yet you tried.

His arm wrapped around you faster than you thought and he flung you over his shoulder ungracefully, as if you were a sack of potatoes and his laugh echoed through the halls along with each thundering step he took towards his quarters. “You're shivering like a fucking leaf,” he pointed out, amused as your shaking fists connected with his back in a desperate attempt to get out of his grasp. It was all part of the game, but his menacing aura did scare you. The uncertainty of what he's going to do with you, despite knowing a single word would put an end to this.

Without a care, you were tossed onto his obnoxiously large bed, where you bounced once or twice before scrambling away from him. “Don't touch me!” You spat at him and swatted one of his hands away from your face, which only made him chuckle. “And why do you think I care about your consent, little bunny?” He asked and dragged you towards him by yanking your ankle. You were now helplessly lying beneath the mountain of man and he mused at the way you hit and clawed at him. “Don't even think about kicking me. I'll break your legs and you can no longer use them at all,” he threatened and his words alone made you stop squirming, knowing he can snap your bones like they're little twigs. “Good girl,” he praised when you stopped fighting, the tongue on his abs licking over the exposed skin of your stomach where your shirt was riding up and the feeling of the wet muscle against your skin made you shiver profoundly. “Please,” you begged with a weak voice, a single tear threatening to roll down your cheek, but you didn't even know what you were begging for. If you wanted him to stop, why were you getting so wet?

Sukunas teeth were showing when he growled at you, registering the way you were rubbing your thighs together to relieve some of the pressure building up in your poor little cunt, confused about what your body should be feeling. Your lover was scary, which you knew ever since you first laid eyes on him. He was ruthless, a brute, but he would never seriously hurt you, he wants and needs you too much… or would he? You weren't entirely sure anymore when he ripped your shirt apart without further warning. Your fear-filled squeal made him chuckle yet again. You reminded him of a little bunny and he was the big bad wolf that was about to take from you what he wanted.

Sharp claw-like nails were draped over your exposed chest and stomach before easily removing your pants and undergarments. “Such a pliant little bunny for me. Tell me, are you scared of me?” He mused and his face was dangerously close to yours and all you could do was nod. “Good,” he rasped out and licked over your cheek just to see you shudder once again. Your breath grew uneven when his lower pair of arms forced your thighs apart as his upper pair of arms were busy playing with your perked nipples, harshly tugging and twisting them to hear your sweet whimpers. As much as he scared you, your body was reacting nothing but positively to your lover, your folds glistening with arousal when he looked at your exposed cunt. “Look how wet you are from just a few touches… Lucky you,” he mused out, not planning on prepping you much before taking what's rightfully his.

One pair of hands pinned your writhing form to the bed as the other took care of his pants in a quick manner until both his cocks rested heavy against your core. “Please don't,” you begged with teary eyes, knowing exactly how much it would hurt despite your wetness, but his eyes locked with yours with a sinister glint. “What if I do?” He asked challengingly and rubbed one of his tips through your soaked folds, only pushing the tip in. Just the tip was enough to get you to jolt away. Fear was evident by the way a thin layer of sweat started to build on your forehead and Sukuna only waited for you to say the safe word as he repeatedly fucked his tip into you. You stayed silent however and Sukuna was done playing around. Slowly, he leaned down so his mouth was right next to your ear. “You want me to break you, hm? Fuck you until you're nothing more than a hole for my cock to fuck?” He asked teasingly and pushed his entire length in with just one thrust. The pain of a thousand needles penetrated your body and left you gasping for air, but Sukuna enjoyed the sight of your tear-stained cheeks growing wetter with each thrust. His second cock rested heavy on your mound, rubbing over your clit each time the other plunged into you and despite the pain of getting stretched open this fast, you couldn't help but mewl, your body betraying you once again. “You little pain slut,” Sukuna mused and flipped you around, not wanting to see the cock-drunk expression on your face when he would much rather listen to your sweet cries as he used your cunt like nothing but a mere pocket pussy.

While two hands held onto your hip so tight you were sure it would bruise up, one hand rested on the back of your head to make sure your screams and pleas remained muffled by the pillows. Your back was forming a beautiful arch with the way he held your hips up and his fourth hand came to play with your clit, never quite giving you what you crave. No matter how hard you tried to buck your hips or move them away from the small taps his palm was delivering, his iron grip on them wouldn't let you. “Try that again and I'll make sure it will hurt,” he threatened, his voice sounding strangled when your cunt only tightened at that. But your body acted on its own with the next slap to your little clit, flinching away while a cute whine escaped your lips, followed by a shrill shriek when two of his fingers pinched your clit delicately but enough to hurt. “I told you not to move, didn't I?” He warned you and rubbed small circles onto your abused pearl to ease the pain, but your walls started to flutter around his cock. Sobs and cried out moans getting muffled by the pillow beneath you.

The hand that was holding your head down grabbed onto your hair to pull you up ever so slightly. “Your cunt is so tight… Think I can make both of them fit?” Sukuna asked and looked into your puffy eyes, but you shook your head frantically. You only managed to take both his cocks into your cunt twice and both times required lots of prep and right now you were already struggling to accommodate one of his cocks inside of you. Despite the shaking of your head, the man above you didn't care. He wanted to feel you wrapped around both of his heavy cocks and he would make them fit, one way or another. Wrecked cries echoed through the bedroom as he repeatedly tried - and failed - to push his second tip into your tight cunt. Only when he let go of your hips for a moment you tried crawling away from him, not wanting him to try again, but your little attempt at escape only amused him.

Swiftly, you were pulled back onto his length, which made you feel impaled and incredibly full, but Sukuna frowned angry at you. “Where do you think you're going, little bunny?” He asked and his big hands spread your ass for him. “I think I can try another way for you to take both cocks,” he chuckled and spat onto your puckered hole, pleas and sobs falling from your lips once again. You were used to taking him like this, but the situation just made it seem so impossible for you until you felt him penetrate your ass too. Your legs started to shake violently from the feeling of being filled up in both holes as Sukuna wrapped his hands around your waist as he fucked into you. He was using your body as a mere tool for his pleasure, lifting you up and down both of his cocks and getting off to your mewls and whimpers of his name.

It only took one of his hands caressing your clit again, alternating between rubbing it and tapping it, until you came from the forceful penetration. Sukuna followed soon after you since you were milking him, walls clenching around him like a vice. “Fuck-” he groaned as his hot seed spilled deep inside of you and it felt like you were overflowing. A low growl escaped his throat when both of your orgasms slowly ceased and all that was left to be heard was heavy breathing along with the softest whimpers coming from you. With a small hiss, Sukuna pulled his cock out of your ass and watched his seed flow out for just a moment before turning you around, still impaled on his second length. Four strong arms wrapped around your body just to pull you close to his chest, a thin veil of sweat covering him, but you didn't care, your shaky arms holding onto him as little sobs wrecked through your body. “Shh, you're okay,” he gently cooed, holding you close until the emotions washed off again. It felt intense, the shift of the air and the man you just loathed and feared for using you like a toy was your beloved man again, searching for love and safety in his strong arms. Sukuna wasn't one to be soft, but for you, he tried, especially when all it took was as simple as holding you close to him. It was a form of possessiveness for him, which seemed oddly comforting to you, being his.

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez

#Rhy sins ♡#jjk x reader #jjk smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk Sukuna #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #sukuna x you

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gutsby · 6 months

Text

Walker Bait

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: An unforeseen foray into a sex shop leaves you and Daryl trapped between a plastic cock and a hard place as a herd of walkers closes in. Angry sex ensues.

Warnings: NSFW. Protected p-in-v. Oral (m!receiving). Hatefucking, facefucking, and lots of dirty talk, leaning heavy on the “enemies” in the enemies-to-lovers trope. Mentions of a variety of sex toys and other filthy materials, including a blueberry-flavored condom and a walker wearing nipple clamps. 6.5k words.

“All ya gotta do is suck it.”

You were eye-level with the length of it now, all but staring down the barrel of the gun, so to speak. You wetted your lips, shifted uncomfortably on your knees. Then, almost reluctantly, you looked up at Daryl.

“What if it gets in my mouth?”

“It won’t.”

Daryl gripped the base of it with a sturdy hand and guided it closer to your mouth. You made a face as if to recoil, but Daryl was adamant. Insistent. One more false start and he’d probably just shove the thing down your throat. A man of many virtues he may have been, but patience was not among them.

“If I’d known you’d take this long I would’ve done it myself,” he scoffed.

You had just begun parting your lips to allow him entry, but on hearing this, you forced them shut, frowned, and opened them again just to retort:

“Why don’t you, then?! You wanna suck this shit so bad, be my guest.” You were already wobbling back onto your feet, wiping the dirt off your jeans and watching Daryl’s face turn even redder.

“‘Cause I’m teachin’ you, dipshit,” he snapped, “Can’t even tie yer fuckin’ shoes, but I figured ya maybe could siphon gas this once. My bad.”

And there it was: smug, shitstain Daryl ready to jump down your throat with another show of superiority. You couldn’t track, couldn’t forage, couldn’t hunt, couldn’t suck the gasoline out of a car or even put the hose in your mouth. You were useless in his eyes, and he was never shy to make sure you knew it. He looked you over once and hardly seemed to see you at all—just narrowed his eyes and flung the plastic tube in your direction.

Because Rick and all the rest of them were home, and you were here, scoping out the remnants of a seedy one stoplight town miles away, Daryl felt far more at liberty to act like a dick. He would’ve rather anyone been by his side but you, and he let you know as much, but somehow, in some sick and absurd twist of fate, you had been obliged to tag along. You sensed it was because you were the newest addition to Alexandria. And, quite frankly, because you sucked at every other task you’d been given, sucking gas out of cars was all that was left for you to do.

So easy a walker with a dislodged jaw could’ve done it. But you couldn’t. And Daryl despised you for it.

“Figure it out,” he muttered, turning on his heels to stalk off.

You weren’t sure if it was the irate glint in his eyes or the air of condescension in his tone, but you were floored. He’d made two, maybe three steps in the opposite direction when he felt something strike the black leather on his back. He turned again, dropped his gaze to the ground, and saw the plastic hose at his feet. When he looked back up, you were quick to trail behind, stomping past him without a second glance.

“Suck it yourself, asshole.” And you couldn’t help it; you gave him the finger over your shoulder.

You didn’t need eyes in the back of your head to see the rancid, sullen scowl plastered flat across Daryl’s face. Didn’t need ultrasonic hearing to catch him curse beneath his breath and kick something at his feet. You just kept walking in the other direction and hoped with everything you had he wouldn’t follow.

When you’d made it a ways down the street and Daryl hadn’t bothered to chase after you, you breathed a sigh of relief. Now he could raid the mini mart and loot canned foods to his heart’s content or prove himself useful in fifty other ways, and you could just explore.

From the looks of it, you were at the heart of this defunct podunk town and had virtually every amenity at your fingertips.

A barbershop on your right and a dive bar on your left, two boutiques with their windows all busted in, an unsightly patch of grass that once passed as a park, and one lone Texaco, almost treacherous in the light of day as it stood without a single car stationed at its pumps. “NO WAY OUT” emblazoned on a makeshift placard and half a dozen bodies littering the sidewalk before you.

Nothing quite like that small town Southern charm.

Against your better judgment, you went fishing in your back pocket for a few familiar friends to lift your spirits. First, the near-spent package of Virginia Slims, then the lighter, then your Walkman and headphones. An admittedly lethal combination for any would-be survivor of the apocalypse—limiting your hearing and crippling your lungs was no way to live in a world like this, Carol always warned before she snatched both culprits from your hands—but you didn’t care today. You were most of the way down the street and turning down a side avenue; if any walkers were in the vicinity, you figured you would’ve heard them moaning and groaning and dragging their boney asses behind you long before. By all appearances, you and Daryl were totally alone.

You thumbed one miniature flame into view and brought it close to the cigarette you had clamped between your teeth. Then you deposited the lighter back in your pocket, snapped your headset over your ears, and fiddled with the portable cassette player until the strains of some archaic Molly Hatchet tune went spiraling in your ears—“Bounty Hunter,” by the sounds of it.

You were walking at an easy pace now. Took a left off Main and strolled quietly onto Sheppard Street, careful to dodge every bottle, beer can, and rotting body you could. You took a drag and ogled some of the saddest storefronts you’d ever seen. Windows all blown to bits and insides looking like shit as every place appeared to be looted.

It wasn’t until you’d walked a little longer and made your way past the epicenter of the havoc that you saw any spot worth looking at. Where it seemed every other place for food, clothes, firearms, or frozen yogurt along this stretch of road was ransacked and dilapidated, you noticed one building that wasn’t.

In fact, it stopped you dead in your tracks and warranted a triple take to ensure you were seeing things properly the first time you saw it. Blinking with disbelief in the face of this scorching Georgia heat, came your first, unfathomable, ‘What the fuck?’

Juicy Peach Pleasure Shop—Take a bite inside!

There were some sick, twisted people in this world before the turn, that was for sure.

You made a beeline for the entrance.

Admittedly, you’d seen your fair share of funky ass sex shops in your day, but this one took the cake. All shuttered up and seemingly untouched since the world first went to shit—because who in their right mind was robbing a pocket pussy emporium in the midst of the apocalypse?—the store was in surprisingly pristine condition.

The inside was probably tiny and grimy and crawling with walkers—but it was also now your only hope to make yourself useful to the Alexandria community, you thought.

You quickly came to realize that this store would allow you to supply a truckload of sex toys and offer every adult back home the opportunity at a kinkier recreational outlet. With a stockpile of vibrators, ball gags, and anal beads alike, you could finally show them you were good for something. Maybe even worth keeping around, in spite of your subpar siphoning skills and the fact that you’d scared off nearly every animal Daryl attempted to hunt.

You’d be a Juicy Peach pioneer, and one that was likely to meet with tremendous success, if you could just…get the damn door open.

You gave the handle several violent shakes and thrust your body against the door, to no avail.

The sun’s rays were relentless on your back and already bringing a sheen of sweat to your skin, try as you might to keep your cool. You fooled around a few more seconds with the knob, found it hopelessly stuck in its position, and were about ready to abandon the task altogether when you felt the glass begin to give way. Instead of pushing the door, all you had to do was pull it open.

If you were around anyone else but yourself and the dead, you probably would’ve blushed. Would’ve taken a peek at your surroundings, perhaps lifted one half of your headset off your ears and tried to listen to see if anyone had heard. But no, you forged ahead, as careless and oblivious as you were engrossed in the present song’s guitar solo.

Should you have bothered to do either, you likely would’ve heard a set of feet sprinting in your direction and seen someone reaching for you in a hurry. Would’ve caught a glimpse of the stranger’s left hand before it clamped over your mouth or the right as it closed around your own on the door handle and yanked it back. The next thing you knew, you were being hauled inside and held tight against someone’s body, all but immobile in their grip and struggling to gasp for air.

Then a breath, hot on your ear as the person pulled you closer:

“Herd. Don’t move.”

You tensed in Daryl’s arms and watched the scene unfold before you. Just outside the store’s boarded windows, a super-sized group of geeks began to descend on the street where you’d just been standing. Seeing them shuffle, stumble, groan, and hiss their way down, you shuddered to think you hadn’t heard them at all—and would have been overrun in a minute if Daryl hadn’t intervened just then.

The man’s hand remained glued to your mouth, sensing you might shriek as you watched the horde grow in size.

Slowly, he backed you away from the door and started looking around.

“Daryl, I—” you began in a whisper, turning around to face him.

Before you could continue, a half-rotted corpse rose from the floor a few feet away and started toward you and Daryl. You fought your first inclination to scream, remembering your current predicament, and opted instead for a frantic, furious wave of your arm as you pointed behind Daryl.

The man leveled his crossbow in a blink and had a bolt lodged in the walker’s skull even faster. You watched the body crumple to the ground, just before another one of its companions came rounding the corner.

This time, Daryl slipped his dagger from the sheath on his belt and in a single, swift maneuver, drove the blade through the walker’s temple. You watched with widened, paralyzed eyes as this one, too, dropped fast to the floor. But when it did, you still couldn’t bring yourself to displace your gaze, for something bizarre had snagged your attention.

“What in the everliving fuck is tha’?” Daryl breathed, eyes stuck to the same sight as yours.

That rank, decayed biter had a pair of nipple clamps fastened to its chest.

Just as your mind raced to furnish the man with an answer, Daryl took a sweeping look around the place and scrunched his nose.

“Is this—”

“Daryl, I can explain—”

You watched the anger flare in his eyes as he turned.

“You got us trapped in a sex shop?” Daryl snarled.

Though neither of you were in a position to speak too far above a whisper with the walkers outside, it was painfully obvious that your partner was yearning to yell in your face. In an instant, he got within an inch of it and stood towering over you, seething between gritted teeth:

“Risked our lives for a fuckin’ vibrator?”

“How was I supposed to know?” you whispered back, gesturing wildly to the window behind you.

Daryl’s fingers curled into fists, and for a second it seemed like one was primed to strike the nearest surface, but he stopped. Unclenched his hands and simply glared down at you.

“Ain’t you a peach,” he muttered, low and slow, “Ain’t you a goddamn useless little peach, huh?”

He took off in the other direction, probably in search of a back exit.

You stood and silently scolded yourself for feeling even the slightest inkling of arousal at the last, sarcasm-soaked insult. What the hell was wrong with you?

You hung back another minute or so and weren’t surprised in the least when you heard Daryl groan out loud, coming to find the back door barricaded all the way to the ceiling.

“Sonovabitch!”

Taking one, apprehensive look out the window, you observed the herd hadn’t budged. They were moving and milling about, to be sure, but the bulk of them hadn’t wavered from the shop’s front stoop, leaving you and Daryl prisoners within these four walls.

You flinched when one of the walkers bumped its near-fleshless head against the glass. Silently, warily, you backed away and hoped it wouldn’t stray any further.

At length, none of them did.

Nearly an hour had passed before you could tear yourself away from the window, watching each doe-eyed, groaning monster outside like your life depended on it. Then Daryl came staggering back, all but drenched in sweat and slashed every which way down his arms. He’d been prying whatever stuff he could get from the exit, only to find that the door itself had been boarded up and jammed shut. The herd hadn’t stirred.

Daryl had barely been able to look at you when he demanded you start looking—for batteries, rope, whatever the hell you could find in this “depraved place.” You’d gone searching without another word, and the pair of you had been radio silent ever since. Combing over aisles of porn flicks and cock pumps and pretending like this wasn’t the most uncomfortable thing either of you had ever had to do.

When the opportunity to slip somewhere else first presented itself, you took it.

Toward the back of the store, you found a set of changing rooms. All cluttered with boxes and other junk but nevertheless a potential treasure trove for supplies. You eased your way in.

To your relief, there were only two half-rotted walkers making their rounds amongst the wreckage. You knifed them both and went calmly about your business.

And for awhile, it was just that—business. You were ecstatic to find two pairs of boxcutters, a dozen rolls of tape, and more rope than you knew what to do with. You had loaded your arms chock-full of finds, were just about to step outside to show Daryl, when a clothes rack caught your eye.

You turned your head and stopped to take in the sight.

On a single, flimsy hanger at the center of the shelf, there dangled a baby pink lace lingerie set.

You hadn’t seen anything that tantalizing, lithe, and sheer in a long, long time. You were practically drawn to it, feeling your feet shuffle clumsily in its direction and your arms drop every last item they held. Surely, then, you embodied everything a Victoria’s Secret salesman could’ve dreamed—so singularly focused on that stupid piece of clothing that you were literally stepping over dead bodies to get there.

If Daryl could see you then, he’d probably slap you upside the head.

“This ain’t a fashion show, sweetheart, we got the dead beatin’ down our front door!” You could almost hear him now.

Almost. Any hypothetical harangue from your supply run partner and every other pressing concern, it seemed, was lost on you now. All you knew was lace embroidery and plunging necklines, satin fabrics and fuck-me mesh open gussets.

You were clothed in the garment quicker than you could say, ‘Bad idea.’ You did a spin in the mirror.

A thousand dumb ideas danced before your mind’s eye as you placed your hands on your hips, moved your shoulders in sync, gave your ass a little shake. It was ridiculous, but you just hadn’t thought of yourself that way in so long; it was like you were staring at a brand new reflection. Years in a noxious, nightmarish world like the one you currently inhabited would do that. Turn a person into a bloodless stoic, so focused on the means of survival that they couldn’t even say a simple—

“What the fuck?!”

Your heart leapt into your throat when you saw Daryl’s form appear in the corner of the mirror. You quickly covered your tits and turned back to look at him.

“I-I-I’m sorry, Daryl, I—”

“You off yer fuckin’ rocker or sumn’?” Daryl spat, striding right over to you, “We got a whole pack of walkers champin’ at the bit to get us outside, and yer in here playin’ dress up?!”

Daryl clenched his jaw and shoved the clothes rack to the side, sending it tumbling over the two dead walkers with a crash. You hugged your arms to your chest even tighter.

Just when you opened your mouth to speak again, to try and apologize once more, Daryl shoved a thick, angry finger in your face.

“If you go and get yer dumbass devoured by a dildo-wielding geek, tha’s on you. I ain’t fuckin’ comin’ ta save ya no more.”

Damn if the man didn’t have a way with words, even when he was fuming out the ears.

You glanced down and immediately wished you hadn’t. Or had, sooner. Your blue-eyed nemesis was currently sporting the largest hard-on you thought you’d ever seen.

Daryl looked down too and seemed only to grow in his anger, if that were even possible, as it appeared he was infuriated at the sight below him. Enraged with his own erection.

You almost would’ve found this predicament amusing if you weren’t still afraid Daryl might throw you over his shoulder and feed you to the herd outside. Deciding to play it safe, you kept your mouth shut and stood with your hands clasped in front of you. Eyed the outline of his dick only once. Okay, maybe twice.

When your eyes traveled back up to his face in a nervous gaze, you found that Daryl was glaring at you. A hand hovered uncertainly above his belt buckle.

“Fuck it.” You heard him say under his breath before suddenly reaching for you.

Your whole body tensed in his calloused hands as he shoved you toward the door, gripping your wrists behind your back and thrusting you ahead.

You dug your heels into the floor, uselessly, trying to stop your vicious path past the changing rooms and into the store. Your eyes widened as you saw an even larger horde amassed beyond the front door, and for several, fleeting seconds you seriously thought that Daryl might throw you out there.

“Daryl, please,” you wailed, thrashing against him, “I didn’t mean it, I was being stupid—you don’t have to do this!”

At the center of the store, Daryl stopped. Spun you around shortly to face him.

“What?”

“Don’t feed me to the herd, please, I’m begging you.” Your stomach clenched with fear.

Daryl’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly. If you weren’t so goddamn terrified, you would’ve detected that tiny change was in fact amusement.

“‘M not gon’ feed you to the walkers, girl,” he grunted, all matter-of-fact. Then, just as calmly, “‘M gonna fuck you over this counter.”

Oh.

It seemed your World War Z nightmare-fantasy had taken a pornographic turn. The meaning of his words hardly registered in your brain before he shuttled you off to the cashier’s counter at the front of the store. Before you knew it, you were lying flat on a cold, glass surface and staring straight out into a sea of undead faces a few yards ahead. You swallowed.

You flinched with another grating sensation, this time at your wrists.

You glanced over your shoulder and saw Daryl binding your hands together behind your back. Where he had obtained the black BDSM rope in the time it had taken him to bring you here was beyond you.

“Not to be a Debbie Downer here or anything, but isn’t this...kind of…dangerous?” you asked, jerking your head in the direction of the walkers outside the window.

“Don’t care.” Daryl pulled the rope even tighter.

“But they can hear us if they’re right outside.”

From your vantage point, it seemed Daryl was ready to yank your hair and pound you senseless. Instead, he smiled. Gave your ass a light pat.

“Then you’d be wise to keep tha’ pretty mouth of yours shut while I’m fuckin’ ya, sunshine.”

Daryl pressed one quick kiss on your shoulder before bounding off in the other direction. You shimmied helplessly against your restraints as you tried to flip yourself over.

“You’re sick, Dixon. You’re a sick son of a bitch, I hope you know that,” you whisper-shouted after him. You doubt he heard you but had a sneaking suspicion he’d already seen the soaked-through spot between your legs to disprove it even if he had. You pressed your head to the counter and cursed your primal instincts for turning your lower half into an uncomely mess every time a man twice your age said something mean to you.

You would’ve liked to have leaned back—or, rather, forward—and said a big ‘fuck you’ to Molly Hatchet as well for getting you into this bind in the first place, were it not for the sound of Daryl’s footsteps returning.

“Listen, I learned my lesson, Dar. If you could just untie me, we would be a lot better off figuring out a way to escape this place than—”

You yelped as something smacked your ass. It wasn’t Daryl’s hand.

“Ouch!” You strained against the rope once more, only succeeding in wiggling your ass before Daryl’s pleasantly occupied eyes.

“C’mon now, it ain’t tha’ bad, honey. Stuff’s meant to feel good,” he chided. Another strike on your ass check punctuated his words.

He was right; it didn’t really hurt. Just felt strange, all bent over and exposed before him like that. You glanced back and saw the crop in his hands, the smug look on his face, and for a second, you did feel a twinge of pleasure as you imagined him doing much more.

You whimpered when he spanked you again—this time, with the flattened palm of his hand.

“Better?” Daryl quipped, grinning.

The second you nodded your head, you heard the sound of the crop clatter to the floor behind you. Daryl swiftly took your ass in both hands and started kneading the skin. Really digging his fingers into the flesh and sending shockwaves trembling all through your body.

“Rick’s the only reason yer here, y’know,” Daryl said behind you. You yelped when he smacked your ass again, and you curled your toes into the linoleum below.

The man rubbed the spot as soon as he’d struck it, palming your skin like it was the softest, smoothest thing he’d ever felt.

“Thinks you’d be an asset.” Another slap on your rear.

“I told him he don’t know wha’ the fuck he’s talkin’ ‘bout. Said you were ‘bout as useful as a one-legged man in an ass-kickin’ contest.”

You fought back a chuckle. That was pretty good.

And when he spanked your ass another time, the sting didn’t hurt as much. You propped your chin on the surface beneath you, pursed your lips, and actually suppressed the threat of a moan.

“I said ya were a liability,” Daryl continued, “Didn’t know no fuckin’ manners neither.”

At that, you were tempted to speak, almost wanting to defend yourself against his baseless accusations. But Daryl stopped that from happening, as he grabbed a fistful of your hair and arched your back up to meet his face, half-standing.

“I think ya need me ta teach ya some manners, how ‘bout tha’?” he growled in your ear.

If the warmth pooling between your legs couldn’t answer for you, you decided words would have to do. You nodded and said, “Uh-huh.”

Daryl threw you back onto the counter and gave your ass another brutal smack.

“‘Uh-huh’ don’t sound too polite to me, sugar,” he said sharply, cruelly. He didn’t soothe your backside with the pulse of his fingers and stood back from you instead.

“Yes...y-yes sir,” you stammered out, legs trembling underneath you.

Your feet were slightly raised, all but standing on tip-toes to keep your body propped up against the counter, and you were suddenly aware that your cunt was plainly exposed. The open gusset in your lacy attire seemed to have spread even further, swelling with the size of your now-engorged folds and probably displaying yourself to Daryl in all the worst ways.

The man groaned behind you.

You sensed some fabric shuffle, the clink of a belt come undone, and finally a tongue—pressed flat against you and licking a stripe up your oozing heat.

You shuddered forward on the tabletop and let out a lewd-sounding squeal. Your eyes widened at the sight ahead of you as you swore you could’ve seen a walker turn their rotted head in your direction outside. Daryl clamped a hand over your mouth.

“Now tha’s— what we’re not gonna do,” he whispered through gritted teeth, “We’re not gonna make one fuckin’ sound so the geeks out there can stay right where they are. Ya hear me?”

Daryl’s hand moved to your throat and pinched it in a vicious grip when you didn’t answer him.

“Ya hear me?”

You managed one strangled ‘Yes sir’ and left your lips parted as Daryl placed a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on them. He stepped back again.

You heard some other quiet stirrings behind you as Daryl fiddled with something above your back. Frankly, you were already too lust-struck and cum-hungry to care, breathing out in soft, gentle puffs of air as you tried to rein in your reeling mind. You watched the walkers for a minute, tried to ground yourself in the unsavory reality all around you—the precarious position you were currently standing in, as one stray stumble of one of those undead shitheads might veritably mean the end of you and Daryl’s lives as you knew it—and you sighed. Scanned your eyes across the sea of wretched, fleshy heads and wanted to hurl.

At present, Daryl stroked your lower back with the tips of his fingers.

“Y’know, it’s been real tough ta find anything useful here,” he mused aloud, running his touch over your skin and sending a flurry of goosebumps in its path, “Ain’t nothin’ worth keepin’ here, really—‘cept maybe some dirty magazines.”

You internally rolled your eyes. Good for you, Daryl.

Then he lifted his hand and dragged it down a little further, causing you to clench your legs and snag your bottom lip between your teeth.

“But I got curious, see…” Daryl’s forefinger followed the contour of your ass and slid down between your cheeks, traveling lazily ‘til he reached your aching core. He sank that same finger deep between your folds and circled around in your heat, eliciting a strained whimper above as he gathered your juices.

“Daryl—” you whined.

“Don’t interrupt,” Daryl growled, slapping your pussy.

You winced and let out the smallest of moans. Daryl smirked.

“I found some stuff,” he resumed, “Might actually make this little trip worthwhile.”

You panted in your current position, hardly hearing a word he said.

When he lifted something else to your heat, you did quickly sense that his wasn’t any part of his hand, or even his cock. You squirmed in place but didn’t speak.

“Found batteries,” Daryl declared, as though it were the grandest discovery he’d ever made.

“Ya know what batteries are good for, darlin’?” You could almost hear the grin in his voice.

Before you could answer, you felt a fierce pulse at your center. A tremor, a throb, an artificial oscillation.

A vibration.

You moaned.

Daryl twirled the tip of a pink vibrator against your clit and pressed.

So overcome with that raw, potent jolt, you couldn’t help it when you cried, “Fuck, Daryl!”

Daryl didn’t cover your mouth, but he did withdraw the device from your slit for a moment, just to whisper in your ear to shut. the fuck. up. The two of you ogled the swarm of walkers once more and stood in muted suspense. Waiting for one to turn toward the glass.

Not a single set of eyes drifted in your direction.

Bent over you with a buzzing vibrator at your core, Daryl couldn’t deny the rush was...addictive. He pushed the thing a little deeper and smiled when you stifled a moan.

“Ya might’ve been right comin’ all the way out here after all,” Daryl teased, “This shit’s way more fun than suckin’ gas, don’t ya think?”

You buried your face in the glass and wanted to scream when Daryl’s fingers started sliding in and out of your hole.

You were being so good, not making a sound, eyes all but welled up with tears at the pleasure that was coursing through your body. Daryl rubbed your back with his other hand and seemed to be treating you a little gentler now.

“Aw, tha’s my girl,” he said, words ripe with condescension. He traced his palm up the length of your spine and kept fingering you quietly. You barely even noticed that the vibrator was designed to hook inside you, still punishing your clit as it quivered away at the sensitive spot within your walls.

“Who woulda thought all it would take ta shake that disobedience away was a couple’a fingers in yer cunt and a stupid little toy.”

You were far too close to your release to give a shit about his patronizing speech; you bucked your hips against his hand, his front, and gritted your teeth as a tender bubble of pleasure grew deep within your belly. Then, to your surprise, you felt Daryl clasp your fingers while they were still knotted with rope behind you and squeezed them.

“Tha’s a good girl. Cum all over me, make tha’ pussy feel nice f’me, c’mon.”

You followed his command in short order and released all over his hand, humping his fingers and humming through a muffled shriek as you came.

Daryl beamed with pride and hardly had it in him to look away, notwithstanding the growing throng of walkers close ahead of you. He uncurled his fingers, slid them out, and took a nice, long taste of his hand while he watched you writhe underneath him.

“Take it out!” you hissed, thrashing against the vibrator still buzzing within you, “Take it out, take it out, take it out!”

In truth, you’d never felt so fucking good in your life. You surprised yourself when you stood there another couple seconds and came again, clenching repeatedly over the tiny pink toy and groaning into the condensation-dampened glass.

“FUCK!” you screamed, this time with no hint of restraint.

Daryl’s eyes bulged out of his head, and he yanked the thing out of you. Gaze darting to the window in a petrified look.

One walker paused in place and craned its neck with the slowest of motions. It stared blankly at the window before it but didn’t move. Daryl saw its mouth open and close, wheezing something violent, and stared another few seconds before shuffling back to its previous path. Daryl closed his eyes.

“What did I say about—” he started to whisper down to you, but you cut him short,

“We need a safe word or something, Daryl. This is too fuckin’ risky.”

You were right about that. Daryl straightened up and tucked the vibrator in his pocket, before wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Yeah? How ‘bout ‘Walker Bait’?” he muttered, rubbing his face.

Then he was fumbling with the rope around your wrists and loosening it up. His heart was still thudding in his chest, scared half to death with the narrow miss you’d just had, though he didn’t want you to see it. He turned around as soon as you’d gotten free.

“Fine by me,” you grumbled back.

You watched Daryl disappear down a random aisle and felt obliged to cross your arms over your chest, pivoting back to the walkers with a wary gaze.

And, just when you started to wander back into the recesses of your mind, watching the swarm grow thicker and thicker and starting to doubt you’d ever escape this nightmare, you felt Daryl’s hands on you again. Squeezing your hips and turning you to face him.

“Jump,” he ordered.

You did as he said and locked your legs around his waist, welcomed by the familiar feeling of the counter behind you as Daryl pressed your bodies into it. He half-braced you against it, half-held you in his arms as he fingered something small and delicate beneath you.

Your smile widened at the sight of a condom wrapper being torn in two, and grew even bigger when you caught a glimpse of the rubber itself.

It was bright blue and littered with ridges. You laughed.

“The hell is that, Dixon?” you asked, bringing a hand to your mouth to muffle your amusement.

Daryl gingerly dragged the cobalt-colored condom over his length and made a face.

“Ain’t a single damn rubber here for normal people,” he grunted, “This one’s fuckin’ blueberry flavored.”

At the last, neither of you could contain your laughter as you both stared down at the bizarre blue condom stretching over Daryl’s cock. You scooted forward just a little.

“Never a dull moment with you, is there, Dar?” you said as you pushed his chest lightly. Telling him to step back so you could hop down and sink to the floor in front of him.

Daryl sucked in a breath as you took his shaft in your hands. He slapped a hand on the countertop and squeezed when your tongue darted past your lips.

Surely he couldn’t get a fruit-flavored condom and not expect you to give it a taste.

With the base of his cock between your fingers, you licked a long, wide line up his dick and moaned.

“Doesn’t taste much like blueberries,” you hummed, feigning disappointment as you gazed up at Daryl. He gripped the counter even harder and gritted his teeth to suppress a groan.

Regardless of the unsavory artificial flavor, you took the head of his cock between your lips and sucked. Bobbed your head up and down over his length as though trying to get a real mouthful of those so-called berry juices. You found yourself sorely dissatisfied with the taste but more than compensated for this loss in the form of Daryl’s throaty moans above you. It seemed he was letting loose on the restraints to keep quiet and finally gripping your hair, rutting into your mouth.

“Ah, honey, tha’s’it. Tha’s a good little slut,” he panted as he pushed you further down on his cock.

You tried not to gag when he grazed the back of your throat but couldn’t control the reflex. Daryl groaned even louder above you.

In a second, you were plucked off his bright blue boner and taken back into his arms, then shoved on the surface behind you.

“I ain’ fuckin’ waitin’ no more. Ya done achin’ for daddy’s cock?”

You nodded that you were. You readily accepted Daryl’s lips on your own and his tongue pushed deep in your mouth as he showered you with a string of sloppy kisses. Shifted you in his arms almost viciously, frantically, before bringing you down on his cock.

The second you were fully impaled on him, the two of you groaned. You bucked your hips and he rutted his, bouncing you up and down again and again with no time at all to adjust to his size.

All that could be heard in the deserted store was the sounds of your skin slapping against one another, punctuated every now and then with strangled moans and stifled whimpers. You steadied your hands on either one of his shoulders and stared, deeply, in Daryl’s half-hooded eyes. He panted out a breathy sigh as you clenched around him.

“Tha’s right, girl, fuckin’ take it. Take this fuckin’ cock like it’s yours,” he growled.

“It is mine, Daryl,” you bit back, grinding even harder, “Tell me it’s mine.”

Daryl’s jaw seemed to slacken just a bit, evidently aroused by the sound of you talking so dirty to him. In a blink, he was digging his nails in your sides and saying,

“It’s yours, baby. All fuckin’ yours.”

If someone had told you at the start of the day that this was how your dreaded supply run with Daryl would go, you wouldn’t have believed them. As your once-despised partner drilled you even deeper and caught your lips in a frenzied kiss, you still almost couldn’t comprehend it now. You bounced, and you writhed, and you rolled your desperate hips against him, but how in the fuck did this happen?

The moment Daryl dropped his thumb to your clit, you decided you didn’t care.

Your walls hugged him even tighter as he drew loose circles all over your swollen nub, and your head fell back. Daryl held you even tighter.

“Gonna cum again f’me? Gonna cum all over this cock?” he goaded you as your heels dug deep in his lower back.

All you could do was nod again—bring your lazy, fucked-out gaze back to Daryl and murmur in what hardly felt like words to you at all:

“Y-yes, daddy, yes.”

Daryl smiled at the sound of that word on your lips and thrusted his hips even harder, fucking you fast to build the friction on your sensitive, trembling walls.

That, paired with the flick of his thumb on your clit and the narrowing eyes holding you tight to his gaze—wordlessly coaxing you to cum for him now, make daddy proud—sent your senses spiraling into ecstasy. You released all over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and gripped him harder than you ever had before.

Before another scream could escape your lips, Daryl yanked you closer for a kiss and attempted to swallow every sound as his own orgasm surged inside him. You felt the man move both hands to your sides, seize them, and all but crush the bones beneath his fingers as he fucked you hard against the counter. He shot his load in the condom and groaned against your mouth.

Two former enemies, fucked out like a couple of crazed fools, stayed glued in place and blinked back at one other like you hardly understood what had just happened. Grinning nonetheless.

As Daryl leaned in for one last kiss, the pair of you froze—something rapped against the window.

The two of you turned and almost swore you could’ve felt your stomachs fall to the floor.

The herd of walkers outside, seemingly doubled in size, now stood at full attention at the storefront. Every undead, rotted head turned straight to face you.

They looked real fucking hungry.

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon imagine #smut #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon one shot #twd imagine

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mistiell · 7 months

Note

The one request that’s bouncing around my head is Astarion dealing with a sick mc like fever chills and no sense of balance because of vitiligo

Hope you enjoy <3 WC: 1.3k

---

You feel like shit. Total and utter shit.

What started as a sore throat has evolved into a fever and chills, along with an absolutely skull splitting migraine. The sheets twist uncomfortably as you turn onto your back, clinging to your sweat slicked skin. You can’t bring yourself to kick them off. Not when the ache in your bones makes it feel like they’re breaking.

The sun has been up for nearly an hour, now. If you don’t come out soon, one of your companions will come get you. A strangled whimper forces it’s way out of your throat as you force yourself up, curling in on yourself and dropping your face into your hands.

After trying to decide between attempting to take a breath through your sufficiently stuffed nose or through your mouth, you choose the latter. Which you realize is a terrible mistake when it suddenly feels like a thousand tiny knives are skinning the inside of your throat. It makes you cough, which makes it a million times worse, which makes you cough even more.

It’s a good minute until you can finally breathe again; throat raw, beads of tears drying on your lashes. You’re sure you’re a sorry sight. It makes you glad no one is here to see you in all your disease ridden glory.

“Sweet Hells, are you hacking up a lung in here–?” Not even all the way inside your tent yet, Astarion stops immediately after he lays eyes on you. The disgust is immediately replaced by a hesitant sort of concern, brows just barely creasing, “Oh dear.”

“Do I look that bad?” He grimaces at the way your voice grates, gaze flitting over various parts of you before he meets your eyes again.

“You look dreadful.” You think it’s meant to be playful, but he looks and sounds just a little too concerned for it to land that way.

You snort anyway, rubbing at your sweaty forehead, “Thanks.”

He hovers there, uncharacteristically quiet as he glances outside before sighing and coming the rest of the way inside. He’s still in his regular clothes, which makes you think the others haven’t started getting their armour on yet. Thank gods.

He sits down in front of you on your bedroll, knees barely a hair’s width from yours as he cradles the nape of your neck in a gentle hand and presses the inside of his wrist to your forehead. Eyes fluttering shut, a small sigh of relief escapes you when his blessedly cool skin meets yours. You barely think about it as you place a sluggish hand over it to keep him there.

“You’re nice and cool.” You sound listless.

“And you’re about as hot as the hells.” He sighs. You can hear the frown in his voice, “This has gotten out of hand.”

Peeling your eyes open, you blink at him in confusion, “What?”

He lets his wrist fall but keeps a kind hold on your neck, looking deadly serious.

“I know how much you love flattery, but you should know you really don’t have to go to such lengths to get me to wax poetic about your eternal beauty.” It seems like he can’t help the smile that cracks that through the act he’s putting on, “I truly appreciate the effort, but a simple, ‘Astarion, my dearest love, tell me I’m pretty.’ would do just fine.”

A giggle bubbles up from your throat, and you list forward to hide your face in his shoulder as you rasp weakly, “I do not sound like that.”

He hums, giving your nape a gentle squeeze before stroking a little line behind your ear with his thumb. You can feel his teasing smile against the side of your head, “Thankfully not. Should you ever call me your dearest love, I fear I may just drop dead a second time.”

Your laughter dies down, and you’re left with an astronomical wave of fatigue. He wraps his free arm around you when you slump further into him.

“Darling?” He jostles you a little bit. Again, he attempts a joke. Again, he’s too worried for it to come out right, “Don’t go dying on me now. With all we’ve been through, it would be such a waste.”

You huff a small, breathy puff of laughter, turning your face so the bridge of your nose rests against the side of his neck, “I won’t.”

He eases his hand up and down the length of your spine. You barely register it when he turns his head just enough to nose at your temple briefly.

“You should lay back down.” His voice is softer now. The feeling of his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear makes you shiver. Although, that could also be the fever.

You sigh, pulling yourself away from his shoulder. The movement sends the world tilting over and over in one direction. Breath hitching, you feel yourself sway as your eyes squeeze shut.

“What’s wrong?” He sounds a little alarmed as you drop your head into your hands.

“Vertigo.” You breathe. Everything keeps spinning behind your eyelids.

You can hear him shift before his hands find one of your forearms and your shoulder blades, guiding you to lay back.

“I have to–.”

He cuts you off, suddenly stern, “The only thing you have to do right now is rest.”

“But the others–.” You try again. It’s in vain.

Scoffing, he turns his nose up. “The others can shove it, as far as I’m concerned.”

You huff, ready to argue until you open your eyes and notice the anxious quirk of his brows. Instead, you sigh, sluggishly placing you hand over his, “Fine.”

You just barely manage to hear the small breath of relief that escapes him as he turns his hand to give yours a squeeze. He leans forward to press his lips to your forehead before pulling away, “I’ll be right back.”

You only nod.

He comes back five minutes later with a small bowl of water, a cloth, and two slices of bread balanced carefully in his arms.

“You don’t have to eat it yet.” Is all he says as he sets the plate down a little ways away. After wetting the cloth, he rings it out into the bowl and folds it in half before laying it over your forehead. You sigh as it cools your skin. It only lasts a few moments before your skin has warmed it again.

He tries again, then again, before huffing; frustrated.

“I’m sorry.” You croak, and he tuts, shaking his head.

“Don’t apologize, darling. It’s not you.” He sighs, looking properly perturbed now.

“Maybe Shadowheart–.”

“I asked. There’s nothing she can do.” It comes out bitterly, but you know it’s only because he’s worried.

You suddenly have an idea, but first you have to ask, “Can you get sick?”

Looking confused, he shakes his head, “No, I can’t. But, what-?” Pulling back the covers, you open your arms. It clicks, and he chuckles as he climbs in beside you, “Plan to use me as an ice pack, do you?”

“That’s the plan.” It comes out more deadpan than you mean it to. It makes him laugh a little harder, and you can feel the vibrations as your head settles over his chest. Having him next to you is like a balm in more ways than one.

Eyes heavy, you sigh as his hand trails idly along the length of your bicep. You guess he can hear your breathing and heart rate slowing when he whispers, “Sleep, my love.”

And who are you to deny him when he asks so nicely?

#astarion x reader #astarion x mc #astarion bg3 #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3

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lovingmattysposts · 1 month

Text

Quiet 12

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11

pairing: y/n and Matt sturniolo

summary: a girl with a lot of baggage and a boy with even more try to help put each others pieces back together one by one. A story about a girl who’s broken and a boy who doesn’t talk

warnings: mentions of drinking, suggestive, mentions of being drunk

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

"Wednesday" I stated. Matt glanced up at me hesitantly. I shifted next to him. "I upset you" I breathed. He looked back down. I tilted my head to look at his face. His eyes glanced over at me reluctantly, like he didn’t want to look at me.

"Can you tell me why?" I whispered. He took in a breath and looked away from me. "Chris made it pretty clear, I upset you" I spoke again remembering the way he screamed at me in the parking lot. I swallowed.

Matt looked down.

"Tell me Matt" I pleaded desperate to get an answer out of him. His face twisted and he opened his mouth and closed it along with his eyes. He softly shook his head.

I sighed of defeat and turned away from him. Matt looked over at me.

I just glanced down at my book, forgoing the entire conversation. I can't be sorry if I didn't know what I did. Matt wouldn't even tell me.

He reached over and wrote on his notebook. I looked over.

You and Jake, are you guys together?

I stared down at the sentence. Matt didn't look up at me. All he did was stare at the sentence that he wrote. I licked my lips and looked down at the page.

"I don't know Matt. He-" I took in a breath. "I don't know what we are" I mumbled. He looked up to me, I stared back down at my book. He pursed his lips and wrote again on the page.

for someone who doesn't know, he sure does like to kiss you a lot

I looked down at the words before I looked up at Matt. He stared at me. I smacked my lips before turning back to my book.

"Before you ask" I spoke. "That's all we did--kiss." I spoke honestly. It's all that happened. Just a lot of kissing. Matt stared at me before going back to the page.

I wasn't going to ask

I blinked down at the words and I just turned.

"He's nicer than you think you know. He's...." I set down my book. Matt had his eyes trained on me.

"He's not like his friends" I shook my head. Matt sighed and looked down before writing one last thing.

I'll have to take your word for it

I bit my lip and turned away wanting this conversation to end. I tapped my finger against the book over and over, reading none of the words on the page.

"So the party..." I whispered without looking up. He glanced over to me. "Are you gonna come?" I asked raising my head.

I could have sworn when the words left my mouth he looked sick to his stomach. Like a million thoughts filled behind his eyes. He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and he looked down at his page.

"You don't have to---" I shook my head. "I can just..." I sighed. "Come over after" I suggested. He looked up at me and closed his eyes.

He shook his head.

I stared at him and he glared down at his page before shaking his head again. It only took a few seconds before he grabbed his things and stood up and left.

I pulled my skirt down feeling as if my legs were too much on display. I'd stared myself in the mirror for what felt like an hour. Attempting to find my nicest clothes that would match what everyone else might be wearing at the party.

Here I was at 17 and I had no idea what people wore to parties. I'd never been to one before. I wrapped my arms around myself.

I wondered what my mom would think in these moments. If she'd be proud of me for putting myself out there. For going to party. With a boy. I chuckled to myself.

I nodded in the mirror.

You look fine Y/n. You look pretty.

My mom's voice came through and I smiled and that was enough to grab my stuff and walk out the door to the party. If even Matt wasn't coming with me. I could do this. Still I paused before reaching for the doorknob. I shook my head.

And I walked in.

I took in a breath as I attempting to move out of the way of people. I ducked and turned apologizing as I walked through the room trying to find a familiar face. So far I saw no one.

Until I felt someone wrap their arm around my waist over my exposed stomach. Their face was pressed into my neck, kissing softly.

"You made it"

I chuckled and turned until we faced each other. Jake's eyelids were drooped and he held one arm out that held his drink.

"Hi" I whispered. "Hi" He breathed back pressing his lips to mine. I kissed him softly before parting from him. He pulled at my side.

"Come on, everyone's over here" He said motioning behind me. I nodded as he replaced his grip on my side, to my hand and dragged me through the crowd.

People glanced at us. I met some of their eyes. Some whispered, some people's eyes widened. I ducked my head down and squeezed Jake's hand tighter. We finally made it into the living room before I saw everyone sitting looking around.

I smiled and waved as I stood next to Jake.

"Jake I was wondering where you ran off too" Tyler turned to look at us. Jake looked down at me.

"Sit with me" He mumbled down to me. I nodded as I looked up at him. We moved to the couch before I sat down next to him.

He smiled and his hand found it's place on the inside of my leg, pulling it towards him. I closed my legs quickly so that I wasn't exposed to those sitting around us. I felt my face heaten.

"You look cute"

I turned and met Lacey's stare. She was sitting on Gavin's lap. I averted my eyes from widening. She wasn't smiling, she just stared as she sipped from her drink.

"Thank you" I breathed straighting out my top. Her eyes glanced down to Jake's hand on my leg. She pursed her lip and dropped her drink from her lips.

"You drink?" She asked.

I blinked at her before shaking my head. She stared and her eyes glanced over me. Jake leaned in me.

"Do you want me to get you a drink Y/n?" He said softly. I looked over at him.

"No, I'm okay right now" I smiled softly. He nodded and shifted his shoulder behind mine so that I was leaning against his chest slightly. I sighed.

"I wanna play a game" Lacey stood from her seat on Gavin. Gavin groaned. "You always wanna play a game, come back and sit" He reached for her. She ripped from his touch. I swallowed and closed my eyes.

Nadia sat up from where she sat.

"Game! Yay! Tyler game" She reached and pulled Tyler's attention. Tyler slowly turned to Nadia, blinking slowly. Jake sighed and leaned against me.

"They're all wasted. Don't pay attention" He mumbled into my ear. I turned and looked at him. "Are you?" I whispered. "Drunk?” I glanced over his eyes.

“—Or wasted I mean" I stumbled over my words. He sighed and set down his drink.

"I've had a few drink, I'm fine" He smiled pressing his lips against my face. I let out a breath and nodded feeling a sickening feeing in my stomach. I don’t know what I was thinking.

"Game. You in skinny?" Lacey tilted her head at me. My gut clenched. Nadia hit her. "You promised" She snapped glaring at her. I looked between them feeling frozen in my skin.

"It was a joke" She chuckled. "You knew it was a joke right?" She turned to me and raised her eyebrows. Everyone turned to me. I forced a smile.

Friends, Friends, Friends.

"Y-Yeah" I nodded. Lacey nodded and turned back to the table. Jake took in a breathed and gripped my leg.

"Yeah-Yeah Lacey stop being such a cunt and play the game huh?" He snapped at her. She glared up at him. They stared at each other for a minute.

"Fine, hand me the deck" She glared at Jake, holding her hand out for Gavin. Gavin sighed and bend down before handing her a deck of cards.

"What game is this?" I asked turning to Jake. Jake kept glaring at Lacey. Lacey slapped down the deck of cards.

"Easy" Lacey snapped my attention. "Grab a card, read what it says, do it or drink" She smiled. I blinked at her before snapping out of it and nodding.

"Ladies go first" She slid the deck to me. I blinked up at Jake and he just looked at me, as everyone did. I swallowed as I reached down and picked up the first one on top.

My eyes glanced over it.

"Tell a secret, or drink."

I felt sick. I looked up at Lacey. She smiled and raised her eyebrows. I looked over at Jake as I set down the card. "Well?" Lacey crossed her arms over her chest. I looked at the ground.

"Um.." I thought. A secret? I looked up at the drinks layed against the table in front of us. Each one looking less appetizing than the next.

"It doesn't have to be a huge one, Y/n" Jake leaned into me. I tapped my foot and nodded.

"I--" I shook my head. "I--accidently killed my hamspter when I was 7" I nodded remembering the first thing I could. They blinked at me. Lacey shook her head and Nadia chuckled.

"Damn" Tyler chuckled. "Boring" Lacey announced before picking up at card herself and sighing as her eyes glanced over the words.

"Kiss someone you've previously hooked up with or drink" She read. Her eyes looked up at mine. She smiled before she stood and walked over to where I was sitting. My eyes widened before she leaned down and then I realized who she was going for.

"Lace-" Jake mumbled before she pressed her lips to his, while his hand still rested on my legs. My eyes widened and I felt my heart start to beat as I stared at their lips connected.

Jake?

They’d hooked up?

I looked away from them as she parted and chuckled.

Jake looked down at me. I didn't look up at him suddenly feeling sick to my stomach. I looked up at Nadia who looked sadly at me. I pulled my leg from his touch and Jake sighed.

"Y/n" He breathed trying to get my attention.

I’d knew Lacey had just done it to embarrass me, and it worked. I just don’t know why Jake never mentioned it before.

"Who's next?" Lacey smiled. Nadia leaned forward before taking a card.

The game went on like this. Jake stopped trying to get my attention and I just listened and watched as Nadia gave Tyler a lap dance, Jake downed a shot, and Tyler and Gavin wrestled on the ground.

"Your turn" Lacey pushed the card towards me. I sighed before picking up another card. I clenched my jaw as I started to read the card.

"Take off your shirt or drink" I read. Tyler leaned back. "This should be good" He chuckled. Jake glared at him. I pursed my lips as Lacey held back a laugh. I placed the card down before reaching for the bottle in front of me.

"Cop-out" Lacey mumbled. I glared at her before bringing the bottle up to my lips. At first it didn't taste like anything as I drank it like water, it going down so easily.

"Not----that much" Jake grabbed the bottle from me.

Then it burned.

I coughed as the foul tasted hit me like a ton of bricks. I leaned forward as my hand came to my throat, attempting to wipe away the burning from the outside.

Jake put his hand on my back.

"Are you okay?" He breathed. I sat up and looked at everyone'e eyes on me. "I'm fine" I snapped. He sighed and took his hand off my back.

Lacey wasn't winning. I wasn't going to let her. She could try to embarrass me with this cards all night, but I was just going to drink every time.

I was smiling. Genuinely smiling. It felt so good. I giggled as Jake leaned over me as I layed against the couch.

Everyone forgot about the game a few minutes ago.Lacey pre-occupied with Gavin and Nadia with Tyler, their conversations drowing out through everyone else in the house.

"There are a lot of people in your house" I giggled. He nodded and smiled. "There is" He smiled and nodded. I sighed and closed my eyes. Everything felt like it was fuzzing, like the muscles under my skin were bubbling, keeping me warm.

"Are you okay?" His hand came over my hip. I nodded and smiled, my eyes still closed.

"'M happy" I chuckled blinking my eyes open. "Your happy?" He asked chuckling. I nodded as I looked up at him.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you today" Jake breathed as he looked down at me. I smiled and pointed to myself. "Me?" I chuckled. He nodded and closed his eyes. I sighed and looked off.

“I wish Matt was here, he would like feeling this--I feel free" I said as I spread my arms out. Jake pursed his lips and looked down at me.

"You know he's into you right?"

I looked up at him. "Matt?" I asked my eyes widening. He nodded. I shook my head and giggled. Everything just felt funny.

"No-Matt he's....not into anything" I chuckled shaking my head. Jake stared down at me.

"He's into you. I can see it in the way he glares at me" He chuckled. I shook my head furrowing my eyebrows. "I would know Jake. He-He would have told me" I chuckled, leaning into Jake's arm. Jake's gaze just followed me.

"Alright, no more drinks for you" He brushed hair behind my ear. I rolled my eyes and pushed his arm. He smiled as he leaned over me and pressed his lips to mine softly. I smiled as I kissed him back.

"Do you wanna go upstairs? It's quieter up there, somewhere for you to lay down" He mumbled against my lips. I smiled and nodded. He smiled before leaning up and helping me up off the couch. I leaned into him as he held me up as we walked out of the room.

I felt like my body was as light as a feather. I couldn’t stop smiling. This was great. Jake was great.

I chuckled as we made it to the stairs. He held my hand as we walked up the steps. I stumbled missing one of the steps. My hand grasped the rail. Has stairs always been this hard?

"Are you okay?" He laughed pulling me up. I nodded as we continued to walk. He pulled me into this room before he closed the door.

His hands came to my waist and his lips came down on me. I kissed him back and smiled as I wrapped my arms around his neck. His hands came over my hips, gripping my skirt.

As I kissed him back, my hands coming over his hands. I knew my skirt was riding up, and I didn’t want to be on full display.

He released his grip and his hand came under my skin and he guided me towards his bed continuing to kiss me.

I laid down before he crawled over me. He smiled as he pushed his tonuge in my mouth sloppily. His hand pulled my leg up before his hand grazed my knee and trailed down my leg.

He moved his lips to my neck. I looked up at the ceiling.

"D-Did you really hook up with Lacey?" I breathed as I remembered the events from earlier. He lifted for a moment.

"It was a long time ago" He mumbled before he pressed his lips harder agaisnt my neck. I blinked at the ceiling.

"Why didn't you tell me about it?" My eyebrows furrowed. He sighed and he looked up at me. "It wasn't relevant. We weren't ever together" He explained his hand gripping my chin. I looked up at him.

"Okay?" he breathed. I nodded. His lips returned to my neck and he bit down. I swallowed as pictures of Matt's face flushed through my mind. The way his eyes looked over my neck.

He let out a hard breath before he leaned over and tightened the strings to my hoodie to conceal my neck and tapped to his own neck. The same place where a mark laid on my own neck. As if to say:

Hide your hickeys better, I can see them.

"D-Don't give me hickeys" I quickly spoke. Jake lifted his head and his hands pushed throught my hair. "Why?" He questioned staring down at me.

I don't want Matt to see them.

"My-My dad. I don't want him--to see” I shook my head and closed my eyes. He sighed before he pressed his lips back to mine. I kissed him back trying to shut off my mind. I was drunk. I didn't know what drunk felt like, but this had to be it. The room was spinning. My mind was racing.

His hands came over both my legs before he pushed up my shirt and his hand trailed under my bra. I shifted under him, just trying to focus on kissing him back. He bit down on my lip.

"You’re so.." He mumbled and his hand came over my breast. I shuttered uncomfortably under his touch. No one had ever touched me like this before. “Hot” he finished squeezing down on me. I felt my body freeze.

His hand trailed the bottom of my skirt and passed under it.

I tore my lips from his. “Jake, wait” I breathed looking up at him. He stared down at me. “Let me make you feel good” He responded shortly before kissing the side of my face. I felt my breath quicken as his hands went back behind my bra, attempting to unclip it.

"Jake" I pushed his hand away. His hand came out from under my shirt. I sat up and looked down as he climbed off me.

"What?" He asked from behind me. I swallowed and pulled my skirt down suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.

"What?" He asked again. I bit my lip and looked down shaking my head. Why am I freaking out? I was freaking out. I couldn’t do this. I was drunk. I was drunk. I was drunk.

He took in a hard breath.

"I just feel--I feel like--" I was choking on my words scared to even look back up at him. "It's a little fast for me. I-I-" Find your words. Find your words, Y/n. Don’t freak out.

"I've just drank and we shouldn't--"

"Why does that matter? Are you not not into me?" He spoke from behind me. I closed my eyes. I felt like my skin burned where he had touched me.

Plane rides, quiet nights, sleep

"I just-It's a little fast don't you think? I mean are we even together? I don’t know when we switched from friends to—" I stuttered turning and looking at him. He gapped at me and shook his head.

"We're having this conversation now?" He asked shaking his head.

"Well-I dont know? I’ve never done this. I don’t know what I’m doing” I shook my head.

"We're hooking up? Was that not what you wanted?" He said glaring at me. I could feel him start to get angry and my heart beat against my chest.

I looked down and my eyes watered. "I don't know what I want right now. I—" I shook my head. He took in a breath.

Reading, books, being sober.

"Are you kidding me?” I snapped. “Not what you want?” He snapped. “Y/n, it’s not that big of a deal” He shook his head. I just stared at the ground, unable to speak

"Is it that stupid mute kid? Is that what this is about? Did he get into your head?" He threw his hands up. I shook my head.

"Matt he's--"

"I gave you an in y/n. An in to my group--to a good highschool social life, you should thank me. Now you're sick of it? Now it’s too much?" He snapped. I swallowed and shook my head.

"I didn't realize--"

"What? Did you think I just liked hearing you talk?" He snapped. I closed my eyes and my hands came over my face. Disappear, Disappear.

"Do you know how many girl want to be in your postion right now? Do you know who I am to these people?" I stayed silent as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat.

“Jake I’m sorry” I whispered quietly. He took in a breath. “I didn’t mean to make you think-“ I turned to him.

"Come back or get out" He said. I looked up at him. He stared at me with a straight face. I opened my mouth before looking back down at my shoes.

I shook my head as I stood up off the bed and held in my emotions before I shut the door and walked down the stairs. I felt my eyes fill with tears as the loud music came back over my ears.

I swallowed as I blink just trying to focus, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t even walk down the steps without gripping the railing. I closed my eyes. Why did I do this to myself?

I pushed off the railing.

“You’re fine you’re fine” I whispered shaking my head. I pushed through people. Outside, just get outside.

I stumbled against the door harshly as I ripped it open.

Jake’s words played in my mind. The way he gripped me.

And I threw up.

I don't know how I got here but I did. It's like my feet knew where I was going before I did. I cried most of the way here. I knew my mascara had to be running. The walk was shorter that I remembered. But I didn’t remember most of the walking itself.

It was zigzagged and blurry.

You could have told me I teleported here and I would have believed you. Everything was still fuzzy. I hope Matt wouldn’t be mad that I was here.

Would be mad?

Tears sprung to my eyes.

Matt mad.

I knocked on the door softly. I stood back and wiped my nose as I stared at the door. My ears still buzzing from the loudness of the party I was just at. I couldn’t think. I barely had a strain of thoughts.

I knew Matt didn’t want me to come here after the party. But I couldn’t go home. I just couldn’t. I stared at the door. No one was coming. I looked down.

I couldn’t walk all the way home now, there’s no way I would make it. I knocked again, harder.

“Please Matt” I whispered. Nothing. I bit my lip and sat down leaning against the door. I sighed as I brought my hands up to my face.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

Why did you ever go to that party without Matt? What were you thinking? You didn’t know those people? Matt was right. God Matt was so right it hurt.

A few seconds later I felt the door open the door opened, I fell back before I looked up

Matt looked down at me, his eyes and mouth wide. I quickly sat up and stumbled up to my feet. Matt reached out and steadied me. I blinked up at him, humiliation all over my face.

I looked down.

“Please don’t be mad at me” My eyes filled with tears. He sighed and dropped his hands from me as I reached up and wiped my tears.

I looked up at him.

“I didn’t have fun at the party” I shook my head. He closed his eyes as sadness filled his face. I walked forward before pressing my head against his chest and hugging him.

He froze against me as I tried to take in a deep breath. His arms finally rested around me. He sighed as he leaned his head over mine. His hands rubbing my back.

“Matt, I’m so stupid.” I mumbled against him. He pulled me back before looking down at me. I turned away from him.

“I don’t look—-pretty right now. Don’t look at me” I said reaching up and wiping my tears. He grabbed my hands before pushing them down and his thumbs came under my eyes before wiping away the tears, replacing my owns I just looked up at him. His eyes met mine and he gave a sad smile.

I sighed and he grabbed my arm before pulling me into the house. I stumbled slightly and I reached up for his arm.

“Matt I—I don’t feel good” I whispered. His eyes widened and he held me up.

“I’m sorry” I apologized as I leaned into him. "Please tell me Chris isn't-" I hiccuped. "--Here, he'll yell. I'm tired of....yelling" I sighed as we walked through the hallway. Matt furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at me.

Matt pulled me into his room before he let me go, I fell down onto my knees and whined, like I couldn’t hold up my own body weight. Matt bent down with wide eyes before pushing my face up. His eyes scanned my face, as if checking for any injuries.

"Please don't be mad" I said closing my eyes. "I'm really--" I swallowed. "Drunk" I sighed as I laid against the floor. I blinked up at him and he took in a breath, closing his eyes as he sat down on the floor next to me.

I stared up at the ceiling. His hand came over my head as he moved the hair from my face. I swallowed as I turned and looked at him. He smiled softly. I leaned into his hand.

“I don’t know why you like me so much” I whispered. He just bit his lip. “I’m sorry for being a bad friend” I whispered. He lifted his hand from me before grabbing my arms and pulling me to a sitting position.

"I want you to talk to me" I breathed staring up at him. He just stared at me. "I just want to hear your voice Matt. I-" I felt my eyes fill up with tears.

"Just please tell me you're not mad at me." I whined. He stood up before grabbing my arms and pulling me up to my feet. I fell against him and his arms came around my waist. I sighed as I looked up at him. He stared down at me.

"I know you didn't want me to come over, but I--" I bit my lip. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go” I whispered.

"I don't like Jake anymore" I whispered shaking my head. He just looked at me. "He's not..." I closed my eyes. "He's not nice" I laid my head against him. I let out a breath.

"He's not like you" I whispered. He froze against me breifly, I barely felt it with the room going in out a focus. I groaned against him. He grabbed my waist before walking me over to his bed, I fell against the sheet.

He moved to unlace my shoes and I just watched him as the threw them on the floor. He pulled the covers over my body and looked down at me. His hand slightly went to brush the hair out of my face, but he froze.

I reached up and grabbed his hand before pressing it to my face and leaning against his warmth. He just watched me as if he was suprised from my action.

“You know what’s werid…” I whispered. He raised his eyebrows as he looked down at me. “Jake said that you were into me” I swallowed. I felt Matt’s hand freeze.

“I told him that he was crazy because—-I would know right?” I looked up at him. He didn’t react. “I feel like I would know. Because you put all your emotions on your face” I looked up at him. He turned away his cheeks pinkening.

"Do you like being my friend?" I whispered. He looked down at me for a second before nodding. I leaned against the pillow, dropping his hand from my face, but still holding it.

"He said he didn't like hearing me talk" I mumbled. Matt watched me. I closed my eyes. "He didn't want me to talk" I breathed. Matt's eyebrows furrowed.

"Do you feel that way too? Do I talk too much?" I asked my eyes filling with tears. He shook his head instantly before kneeling beside the bed. I looked at him and shook his head more. I sighed.

"Your eyes are blue" I smiled as I looked over his eyes. He smiled and shook his head.

"Sometimes when I looked at Jake's eyes--I'd imagine your eyes instead. Isn't that insane?" I asked glancing over at him. He stared blankly at me his mouth slightly parted and his eyes glanced over mine.

Our faces were inches apart. I swallowed as I stared at him feeling bubbling in my stomach. I swallowed.

"Is that insane?" I asked softer. He shook his head his eyes not leaving mine. Silence filled the room around us. I felt my heart beating hard against my chest and I felt our hands more than I should.

We just looked at each other. Like the other person was the only other one in the world. I glanced down his face. From his glasses to the tip of his nose, to his parted lips.

I just watched him and before I knew it I leaned forward slightly. As if my body was begging me to close the few inches left between us.

I felt his lips graze mine, his slightly brushing against my own. Then before they actually touched, they were gone. I froze. I blinked my eyes open. He swallowed as he pulled his hand from mine and sat back.

He pulled back. He pulled away.

We just stared at each other, like the other was as equally shocked at the others movements. His eyes wide as he looked at me. He closed his eyes and looked down as guilt filled his face.

I felt embarrassment wash over me like a truck. I felt sick to my stomach.

He pulled back from connecting our lips.

I'd tried to kiss him and he pulled back.

He hadn't wanted to kiss me.

I sat up and looked down wrapping my arms around myself, unable to look at him. I felt like I was gonna throw up again.

"I'm so sorry. I-I don't know why I did that" I shook my head turning away from him so he didn't see the tears lining my eyes. The shear embarrassment that was radiating off my face.

For a second there was silence I could feel him looking at me. I closed my eyes wanting to disappear, wanting to punch myself in the face for everything I’ve done tonight. I felt like an idiot.

He stood up before taking in a breath.

He leaned over before writing something. He set it down next to me. I avoided looking at it as he walked out of the room.

I stared down at my hands as I felt a tear fall down the bridge of my nose as I heard the door shut. I reached up and wiped it.

I finally glanced at the paper sitting there once I knew he wasn't coming back.

get some sleep y/n

I closed my eyes and turned over hugging the covers too me, hoping this night would erase from my memory by the morning as I drifted off into sleep with Matt's scent surrounding me. As I slept in his bed, under his covers, without him.

#sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

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yawnderu · 2 months

Text

Final Girl — Slasher!Keegan P. Russ x Reader (1/?)

A word before we start: screaming sounds a whole lot like laughter.

Nothing beats the paranoia of a high man. Rough, calloused hands shove you into the dark wooden closet, whisper-yelling orders to keep your damn mouth shut before the though of protesting could even occur inside your little drunken head. Everything is spinning inside around the room, too focused on the light sensation in your head to be able to connect the dots until it's too late.

“Listen, man, we don't have anyt—” Life can be unpredictable. One moment you're having fun with your friends in a rented cabin in the woods, and the other, your best friend is being shoved into the floor by a much bigger man, the loud sounds of his shouts and struggling instinctively forcing you to put a palm over your mouth, trying your best not to scream along your dying friend.

A quiet whimper makes its way out of your throat the moment a long, bloodied machete is raised in the air, horrified wide eyes meeting yours as the panic fully sets in for him. It's like seeing a trainwreck yet being unable to stop watching, even when your brain is screaming at you to close your eyes. To save yourself from the trauma, to protect your psyche, to let the last image of your best friend be him alive—

Hack.

The masked killer lands heavy blows one right after the other on the figure underneath him, blood splashing all over the room, forcing another muffled whimper out of your lip as the man hacks away at your friend's dead body, seemingly getting more and more excited with every single new wound he's forcing.

The house is quiet— way too quiet for a group of 5 drunk people. You were previously in the bathroom, too preoccupied throwing your guts out in the bathroom to hear any noise through the loud gags and the ringing in your ears. The man's heavy breathing fills the room, making you subconsciously hold your own, not wanting to get any of his attention and be his next victim. They say ignorance is bliss, yet not knowing if the man is aware of your presence only makes the black pit of dread grow in your stomach.

His movements are slow and calculated, letting go of your friend's mangled up corpse, the sound of the machete being pulled out of his flesh almost makes you gag, secretly thankful that you emptied your stomach earlier. Baby-blue eyes scan the room with a precision that almost seemed robotic, instinctive, like a predator who has always succeeded at catching his prey.

Your heart goes down to your stomach when his cold gaze connects with yours through the thin wooden blinds, masked head tilting to the side in what seems to be sick amusement. He inches closer to you, his footsteps surprisingly quiet for a man his size, eyes crinkling up with his pupils dilating quickly, black almost taking over the pale blue.

His gloved hand raises slowly towards the doorknob, maintaining eye contact with your tear-filled eyes— only for his head to snap up towards the sound of a crack on the wooden floor coming from the kitchen. He gives the closet one last look before running towards the sound, the sickening sound of your friend's blood and guts dripping down his machete and clothes following right after him.

Thrashing and more screaming is heard from the other side of the house, snapping you out of it enough to realize it's your only chance to escape the same fate your friends met. Your shaky hand twists the doorknob slowly, not daring to look at the dead body right in front of the door— the body of someone who died just to protect you.

A shaky whimper escapes your lips when you accidentally kick the limb corpse, shaking your head a few times to snap out of it before you move away from him, staring ahead with an unfaltering sense of dread eating you from within.

Your steps are wide and calculated, sobered up the moment the masked killer started attacking your friend right in front of you. From what little you can see thanks to the moonlight seeping through the windows, the entire place looks out of a horror movie, blood staining every single wall, dripping down at such a slow pace that it almost seems like it's God's way of taunting you.

Relief finds place into the pit of dread the moment you can see the entrance door, finally feeling like you're able to breathe again— like you're not leaving behind any of your friends who may have survived the brutal attack. Guilt has no place in survival, you convince yourself within seconds as your shaky hand reaches for the doorknob, only to be slammed against the wall, a gloved hand covering your mouth to muffle the bloodcurdling screams that leave your lips.

You thrash against his rough hold, earning nothing other than a much harder hair pull, only stopping your thrashing the moment you feel cold metal pressing against your throat. Your eyes close as tears fall down your cheeks, pooling on the soft fabric of the gloves of the man holding you against your will.

“And where the fuck do you think you're going, hm?” He turns you around forcefully, pining your body against the wall with his own, tilting his head to the side just to taunt you as his sharp machete presses harder against your neck. His free hand comes up to caress your cheek, teasingly spreading your friend's blood all over your cheeks, forcing a choked sob out of you.

“Aww... Now you're all quiet. Poor pretty, broken princess...” His tone holds nothing but fake pity and pure amusement, sickly getting off on your pathetically horrified expression. His body presses against you harder as he looms over you, only leaning down to press his masked face against the crook of your neck, not bothering to hide the way he's inhaling your smell as the back of his gloved hand keeps absentmindedly running over your cheeks in an action that would be soothing, had he not been the man who killed your loved ones.

“I'll let you go.” Your breath hitches at his words, not believing him for a single second— not when you can feel his boner pressing against your stomach, his hips subtly rubbing against you to get more friction while he wonders if it's truly worth it to let you go instead of sending you home in a box.

“But you say a word about this to anyone... and I mean anyone, princess, and I swear to God, I'll gut you like a fucking fish.” His words take a bitter tone after he calls you princess, though the hold on the machete softens slightly as he hears your choked sobs, knowing the only thing preventing you from nodding vigorously like a well-trained dog is the blood-bathed steel pressing to your neck.

“Yeah? Do you promise?” The machete is moved out of the way, yet he still keeps you pinned against the wall so you don't try to run away. His pinky finger is raised up to your face mockingly, giving you an expecting look that takes you a few seconds too long to understand. Your shaky hand comes up to his, intertwining your pinky with his in a childish promise, a whimper leaving your lips the moment he applies enough pressure to make it hurt before releasing you.

He moves out of the way after a few tantalizing seconds, nodding his head towards the door, watching you scurry away like a kicked puppy, his entire body itching to go after you— and deciding against it last second, knowing he'll be seeing you soon.

Author's note: The art published in all chapters belongs to @moosch!! We're both very excited about this project and to expand on something we've been talking about almost daily for months, I hope you guys enjoy it as much as we do. <3

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moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

Hello love, I just found your blog and I must say that I adore your writing!! I’ve been looking for some new marauder content and couldn’t be happier with what I have come across here! 🫶🏼🩷

Can I request a counterpart to Dizzy? Where the reader comes home super tipsy and roommate James has to deal with their affection and sloppy behavior :)) I think that might be a fun change of perspective for those two.

If not, no worries! Thank you for your amazing work 🥹 take care 🫶🏼

Hi gorgeous, thanks so much! Apologies for the wait, this got a bit long haha. Hope you like it <3

cw: drunkenness

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 2.2k words

James hears the front door open and close, a painful sounding series of thumps, and not much after that.

He sets down his late-night snack of melon he’s been sneakily eating from the bowl you’d cut it up in earlier, leaving his fork sticking out of a piece. “Hello?”

Your reply is quiet, barely echoing down the hallway to reach him. “James?”

He gets up and goes toward the door. You’re slumped against it, cast half in shadow from the lamplight that filters through the window to fall upon one side of your face, brows bunched as you toy clumsily with your shoelace. You look up at his approach, and your expression clears.

“James!”

James smiles; he can’t help it.

“Hi,” he says, with nearly as much enthusiasm. “Did you have fun tonight, sweetheart?”

You nod happily. “I brought you something.”

He feels his eyebrows raise. “Something for me?”

“Mhm.” You twist onto your side, mouth screwing up concentratedly as you lift your bum to fish around in your back pocket. “Here!” You pull out a squished mars bar, looking rather pleased with yourself. “Those are your favorite, right?”

“They are,” he agrees, taking it from you, “thanks. Where’d you get this?”

“A man was giving them out on the street.”

James blinks. “Just giving them away?”

“I know, very suspicious.” You nod sagely. “But I already had mine, and it wasn’t laced with cocaine or anything, so I figure it’s fine.”

Right, then. James will just have to check on you in the morning to make sure you’re still breathing.

“Well, thank you for the gift,” he says, and is rewarded with your gargantuan grin.

“I’m glad you like it,” you reply, eyes full of an earnestness so sweet it makes James’ chest hurt. “I never get to do anything for you, and you’re so nice to me.”

“You do tons of stuff for me,” he scoffs, but you look prepared to argue, and he doesn’t want that. He gives your shoulder a friendly squeeze. “Hey, wanna get some water?”

You go quiet, considering this. “Can I have it on the floor?”

James laughs. “You want to drink your water sitting on the floor?”

You smile like you don’t quite understand what’s so funny but are happy to go along with it anyway. “The floor is good,” you say, as though it’s a simple fact of life.

“Alright.” James weaves his arm under yours, hoisting you up. “Sure, sweetheart, you can have it on the floor.”

He all but carries you into the kitchen, your feet barely touching the floor as they stumble inelegantly over each other and your one undone shoelace. You make a small sound as he eases you down on the floor next to the fridge, looking decidedly worse than you had over by the door.

“Do you feel okay?” he asks, keeping a wary eye on you as he fills a cup from the tap.

You hum noncommittally, waving him off. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Sorry, you can’t stop me,” he replies teasingly, crouching in front of you to pass you the water. He can’t stop himself. “Do you think you’re going to be sick?”

You make a face, mouth twisting in disgust. “God, I hope not.”

A nervous laugh escapes him. “Okay well, uh—here.” James grabs a nearly empty bread bag from the counter, taking the last two slices out and setting them on top of the toaster. He passes it to you. “Just in case you do.”

You give him a soft look, as if he hasn’t just handed you a vomit bag. “Thanks, Jamie.”

His heart sputters. You never call him that, and certainly never while looking at him the way you are now. He has the sudden urge to squish your face between his hands.

“Course,” he says quickly, looking down and getting to work on the shoelaces that were giving you trouble earlier. You’d double-knotted them and evidently forgotten. The action of prying the knot apart feels good, giving his body something productive to do.

For a while, you only drink your water quietly. James disentangles the laces and slips your shoes off, setting them next to each other on the floor. You put your feet in his lap, and he lets you. When you gasp, he looks up, alarmed.

“What?”

“James.” Your eyes are wide and glossy. “James, I just remembered the most wonderful thing.”

His heart calms slightly. “What’s that, love?”

“I cut up cantaloupe earlier. We should eat it!”

James grins, taking your ankles to move them out of his lap. “Great idea. I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He stands, ignoring your confused puppy sound at his leaving.

Your eyes light up when he returns a moment later, bowl of melon in hand.

“Oh my god, you’re the best,” you gush, reaching for the fork he passes you from the drawer. “Where were you hiding this?”

“In my room,” he admits, sitting beside you. “I know you don’t like it when I eat right out of the bowl, sorry.”

“Oh, I don’t mind so much anymore,” you wave him off, forking a chunk of melon and taking a bite out of it. “That was a new-roommate thing. I didn’t want your spit in my food, you could’ve had herpes.”

A laugh startles out of him. “Did you think I had herpes?”

“I didn’t know!” you defend yourself, and it’s ridiculous how endearing he finds it that you’re comfortable enough to talk with your mouth full around him. “You’re a very pretty man, James Potter. For all I knew, you had a steady rotation coming in and out of your room whenever I wasn’t home.”

James guffaws, bumping your shoulder with his reprimandingly. “Wow, thanks for that. At least you think I’m pretty.”

“Just the truth,” you say into your cup, voice somewhat quieter than before.

He looks over, and you’ve gone a bit bashful, shoulders pulling up towards your ears as you down the last of your water. James thinks that he’s lucky you aren’t like this often. It’d be very hard to keep things platonic between you if you were this sweet and open with him as a habit.

“I wasn’t sure about you when you first moved in either,” he says to lighten things. “The first time I opened the cottage cheese and saw peaches inside, I almost moved out.”

You turn to him with your mouth agape, hand coming up to grip his bicep in offense. (He presumes he’s supposed to be intimidated, but all he can think about is how you never touch him like this, usually. It’s nice.) “You said it was good when I made you try it!” you accuse. “You liked it!”

“It was okay,” he allows laughingly, letting himself cover your hand with his under the pretense of loosening your grip. “It was just off-putting at first. That was a lot of weird right out the gate, sweetheart. Sirius wanted me to call the police.”

His plan backfires, and you drop your hand. Your chin, too, giving James a deadpan look through your lashes. “It’s not that weird. Tons of people do it.”

“Sure, sure,” James says, patting your shoulder placatingly when you seem like you could argue more. “Feeling like you might be ready for bed?” You seem to have eaten your fill of melon. Your fork lies discarded in the bowl, swimming in juice.

You deliberate for a moment before humming in affirmation. He stands first, taking both of your hands to help you up and marveling at the fact that you let him. When he turns to walk towards your room and you link your arm through his, he begins to worry he’s dreaming this whole thing.

“James,” you whisper up towards his ear. “Jamie-Jame. I have a secret to tell you.”

Definitely dreaming, then. A secret? He wonders what you could have thought of to tell him at this hour, in the state you’re in. Surely a good friend wouldn’t let you spill your guts when you’re this out of sorts. It could be something serious. Anything you’re not willing to share sober, he shouldn’t want to hear.

“What is it?” he asks, hating himself.

“I’m not going to take off my makeup before bed.”

A giggle bubbles out of him, so ridiculous he’s glad you’re not in your right mind to hear it. “Wow. Dire measures, huh?”

You nod somberly. “I’m gonna be so upset with myself tomorrow. I’m gonna wake up with crusty-eye and a million new zits, but I just want to go to sleep so bad, you know?”

“Mm, I think I see where you’re coming from.” James tries to sound like he’s giving it due consideration while he sets you down on your bed. You scoot back to the side, making room for him to sit beside you. He does. (Who is he to refuse an invitation like that?) “Yeah, you’ve just gotta prioritize comfort sometimes. You’ll make it up to yourself, I’m sure.”

You level him with what seems to be your best approximation of a stern look. It makes you look extremely cuddly. “You can’t hold it against me when you see my skin tomorrow, James. It’s going to be atrocious.”

He has to bite his lip to match your seriousness. “I guarantee I will not mind. In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never not looked lovely.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t get it.” You flop back onto your pillow, disconsolate. “You’ve probably never had a zit in your life.”

“Actually, I went through a fairly bad stint in year eight—”

“That’s not fair,” you groan.

He smiles at you patiently. “What’s not fair, sweetheart?”

“You’re not fair.” You gesture vaguely in his direction as if to make your point. “You haven’t gotten zits since eighth year, first of all. Then on top of that, you smell nice. And you have really long eyelashes, which no boy should ever have. There’s no way you appreciate them as much as they deserve. And you call me sweetheart—what’s up with that?” James blinks, but you’re not done. “And you’re way too nice to me! It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Right,” James says, considering. “So all I have to do is start getting zits, stop showering, and…trim my eyelashes, and then you’ll be satisfied? Justice will be restored?”

Your lips curve, and you nod magnanimously. “Yes, please. Straightaway.”

“Cruel.” He sets a hand on your knee, giving your leg a teasing little shake. “Should I stop calling you sweetheart as well, then?”

You go shy again, looking just to the side of his face as a faint blush colors your cheeks. “No, that’s okay.”

James has to bite the inside of his cheek to tamp down the full force of his smile. “Okay. Alright if I continue being nice to you as well? I’d feel like a bit of a prick if I stopped.”

You give it a few moment’s consideration. “Fine,” you say, as if this is a large allowance and he really is on thin ice. James lets loose his smile. You copy him, your own grin lopsided and goofy. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Can I have a hug?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” The word tumbles out of his mouth before he can stop it, warm fondness oozing from every syllable. “Of course, come here.”

Despite his own words, he goes to you, crushing you to his chest with perhaps a touch too much eagerness. You don’t seem to notice, drooping against him with your arms banded around his middle. He thinks he hears you breathe in.

“Still feeling okay?” he asks gently, rubbing your back. You hum. “Ready to go to sleep?”

“Not if you’re going to leave.” Your voice is muffled against the fabric of his pajama shirt. The skin beneath grows warm from your breath. “I like you so much, Jamie. You’re so nice to me, you know?”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that.” He smiles to himself, palm sweeping over the bare skin of your upper back and the material of your dress. He wonders if you’ll regret having slept in it in the morning. He can’t stand the thought of wearing outside clothes in bed. Oddly, he doesn’t know if you’re the same. “I can stay for a bit, if you want.”

“I like you, like, so much it’s a problem,” you go on as if he hasn’t spoken. You sound mildly upset. “You have no idea.”

Something tense and tentatively happy twists in James’ gut. It takes more effort than it should to keep breathing, keep rubbing your back. “I can stay, but you have to go to sleep, okay?”

You ease out of his embrace to look up at him. Your eyes are somewhat focussed, but watery. “James, I like you so much.”

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” he says softly, heart a hard-to-ignore, thundering thing in his chest. “Let’s just sleep for now, okay?”

“Okay.” You look reluctant but nod, laying back against your pillow. “Thanks.”

James doesn’t know what you’re thanking him for. He’s not sure he deserves it. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” you grumble, but reach up for his hand. He gives it to you, and you haul it to your chest with surprising strength, sending James slumping forward until he’s nearly lying down beside you. “Sorry,” you say drowsily. Then, after some thought, “Actually, no I’m not.”

James laughs. He’s happy to know you, he thinks. You’re kind and funny and thoughtful, and apparently very talkative when you’re drunk. He likes you too. Loves you, maybe. He’ll think about it tomorrow.

674 notes · View notes

pshcomforts · 2 months

Text

➳ let you break my heart again | psh.

collegestudent!sunghoon x fem!reader (mentions of wonyoung from ive)

“one day i will stop falling in love with you”

synopsis: you’ve been in love with your friend, sunghoon for a long time but he has eyes on someone else.

warnings/content: college au. unrequited love. pure and heavy angst. cursing. no happy ending. written in third pov. sunghoon’s oblivious. reader is introverted. a little bit of jay x reader.

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 3.3k

a/n: part two — ‘falling in love’. fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s boyfriend), min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend), and ji-woo (jake’s girlfriend). shameless part two is in the works i swear!

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: let you break my heart again by laufey

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:04 ─────|────────────── -3:25

it was a gloomy and early evening, and all y/n could hear were the sounds of bird chirps and wind whispers.

she gave a soft sigh as she arrived onto the school campus. “just a few hours today, it’s gonna rain too..,” she murmured with a saddened expression.

the girl soon felt a harsh arm tug around her neck, pulling her close within the person’s chest.

in an instant, the smell of cologne and fresh laundry attacked her senses and she knew who it was.

“you just got here??” her close friend, sunghoon beamed towards her.

y/n’s heart instantly thumped at the processed words. “yeah.. did you?” she took a gulp, eyes trailing up towards the body figure.

she heard him give a low chuckle that caused her insides to churn and twist all in one. “i’ve been here for a while, dummy. we’ve all been waiting for you.” hoon spoke, arms unintentionally linking her closer in his presence.

the girl awkwardly laughed along before swallowing her feelings away. “oh.. well, i’m here now.”

“finally! i’ve been waiting since 8am!”

“you have?” her head peered up and she only hoped that sunghoon didn’t notice the blushing red around her cheeks and ears.

he didn’t. the stupid boy was oblivious.

so he only cackled a laugh before furiously nodding his head — “yeah! i need to give you an update on how it’s going so far with wonyoung.”

oh.

y/n’s heart instantly sank to the pit of her stomach, killing all of the possible butterflies that had been formed there. “o..oh…,” she mumbled with a lip bite. “yeah, how’s it going so far?”

she attempted a smile but could only go so far with just her lips forcibly pressing into a thin line.

sunghoon didn’t notice the way his friend who’s crushed on him for months subtly withdrew away from him as he yapped on and on about his progress.

“so me and her..,” “and then we..,” “but she also told me..,” “and i really want her to know that..,” the oblivious boy mumbled on, and all she could do was let him run his mouth with how much excitement surged through him.

y/n laughed here and there, playing the simple mannered jokes to quiet down her aching pain that wished to become present.

but even with her efforts, her tears that caused a shine to display in her eyes were worsening her act. and when she quietly sniffed away her snot, sunghoon immediately noticed and stopped in his tracks.

“hey,” he nudged. “you okay?”

“yeah.. no, yeah, i’m definitely fine! it’s just getting cold so i think i’m getting a little sick.” she muffled back with her head turned away from him.

he didn’t give a response. at least, not right away. it was urgently quiet as he observed her body language, almost as if trying to figure her out.

“are you sure you’re okay?” the male softly uttered. his voice was sweet and reassuring, much like his feelings for wonyoung.

“if you need to, just go back home. your head might hurt if you stay in class.” he added in.

y/n hated this. she hated how caring he was, how unintentionally charming he was. she hated it, and she hated him (lies).

“no it’s fine, hoon.”

sunghoon’s face spoke with disbelief in her words. resting his hand on her shoulder, he firmly murmured, “i’m sure the professor will understand, i don’t want you to force yourself-“

“i said i’m fine.” the girl harshly reiterated.

after the cold shoulder, she felt his hand slip off of her shoulder — causing a burning pulse to ache in her heart. he was the one who withdrew this time, and she felt it.

“you didn’t have to be harsh, y/n.”

sunghoon’s hand was about to fully slip away but y/n caught it in time, fingers dangling onto the forearm with hope and regret.

“sorry, sunghoon, i’m just a little irritated with this cold,” she lied. nothing about her runny nose and teary eyes were about a cold. he was the reason, but he couldn’t know that.

✩ ‘i don’t even think that you care like i do’ ✩

hoon sighed. “i know you get a little mean when your head starts to hurt but don’t take it out on me,” he softly joked, playfully nudging her head afterwards.

the girl rolled her eyes before giving a light smack to his arm. “shut up, i’m just not feeling well.” another lie.

“well just don’t get me sick cause then i’ll get wonyoung sick.”

oh.

his words processed into her ears faster than she thought, and her smile dropped.

but when sunghoon looked back at her to see if she laughed at his joke, she quickly wore a grin once more.

“calm down, you guys are still talking.” y/n said with a stab to the heart.

“not after today, i hope.”

her ears perked up. she knew it wasn’t possible for her friend to like her back, especially with how much he always went on and on about a girl like wonyoung; but it didn’t hurt to have a little hope right?

✩ ‘pretend that we are more than friends’ ✩

“what’s happening today?” she asked, finding it hard to gulp down saliva with her heartbeats in her throat.

sunghoon awkwardly chuckled as he scratched the back of his nape. “i’m planning to ask her out today.”

another heart drop to the stomach.

✩ ‘i should stop’ ✩

‘of course.. i’m an idiot…,’ she thought to herself as she exhaled a heavy sigh.

“what? that’s not a good idea?” the boy asked, catching onto that exaggerated sigh.

“what? oh.. no, it’s a good idea! ask her out!” she beamed, displaying a wide smile. she felt like an idiot. her hopes went up for a second, just for it to be shot down like always.

✩ ‘heaven knows i’ve tried’ ✩

“thank you, y/n! you always help me with her, i can’t thank you enough!” sunghoon yelled, hugging and shaking her around.

y/n lightly laughed. “once is enough..,”

“what?”

“what..? nothing! hey, there’s jake and them, let’s go!” she dragged him towards their friend group and sighed in relief.

“you guys are finally here?” jake teased, displaying his full set of teeth as he laid his head on his girlfriend’s shoulders.

y/n nodded. “yeah, i just came on campus.”

“girl, it’s noon!” her friend, ji-woo yelled in disbelief.

“hey, my class is later, so i’m not late!”

“that’s true, at least she’s planning to go to class.” dae chimed in with a shrug in his shoulders.

“exactly! thank you,” the single friend defensively beamed back.

“that’s a first.” min-su uttered, causing cackled laughter to erupt out of the group.

a few topics of discussions immersed before sunghoon intervened with his own — “so i’m planning to ask wonyoung out.”

everyone immediately shifted their gaze to y/n, who had her head slightly drooped down. they knew she liked him. everyone knew, everyone but sunghoon.

but it wasn’t like they could just tell him for her. it wasn’t their place, and she’d honestly rather keep it a secret with how eager he was to be going out with another girl.

y/n softly shook her head ‘no’ towards her three closer friends who intentionally stared at her a little longer than the members. ‘no, don’t say anything, it’s fine’ — she spoke with that head shake.

ji-woo sighed out before uttering, “you’re really gonna go out with her?”

sunghoon’s head tilted to the side in confusion as he responded with a — “yes? is it that surprising?” he turned his attention to jake to get an idea of what his girlfriend meant, only for jake to just awkwardly smile.

“well, you’re just not the type to be that bold, you know?” dae urged, saving ji-woo’s ass.

“yeah, you’re usually more like the guy who just lets stuff happens unintentionally.” min-su said in an attempt to cover their question up.

“baby, i’m sure sunghoon’s just getting more confident with her.” heeseung replied to his girlfriend, intertwining his hands with hers.

y/n’s head slightly bolted before looking at the male who just spoke. they met eyes before he mouthed a ‘sorry’ towards her.

“hee’s right. she just makes me feel confident in being more out there. she’s so sweet, and talks confidently, and..,” sunghoon chattered on.

and it was then that she realized just how different wonyoung and her were.

wonyoung was extroverted, and y/n was introverted.

she was so outgoing and natural in everything she did, and y/n truly admired her for that. she couldn’t ever hate someone who was so unbelievably sweet like wonyoung.

but the two girls were different, and y/n could see just how much sunghoon and her wouldn’t work out. they were too similar, and he needed someone opposite from him.

her. it was her who was like that. wonyoung brought the best in him, and y/n was at least glad for that.

so as hoon kept yapping on about his plan, y/n disassociated with every thought that flooded her head. she couldn’t bare to hear the same words, so the best thing that she could do was just blur out whatever he was saying.

the group took notice and eventually stopped sunghoon.

“hey y/n, doesn’t your class start soon?” dae quickly intervened with an eyebrow raise.

“hm? oh, yeah.. soon.” she blatantly said, no sense of emotion shown.

ji-woo awkwardly laughed as she added, “girl you should start walking.” her chuckle was in an attempt to make light jokes of the situation, but y/n only nodded.

“okay,” she mumbled and got up from the table seat.

“oh, i’ll walk you.” jay uttered, taking the excuse and leaving as well.

sunghoon cocked his head. “what? but i was supposed to walk her. jay??”

“don’t worry, i’ll walk her! her class will be close to mine anyway!” the dark haired boy shouted before catching up to y/n.

“hey,” jay bumped his arm against hers. “you want to talk about it..?”

she sighed as she faced him. his face showed a sickly amount of worry and it only caused her to playfully push his head away.

“does it look like i want to talk about it?” y/n murmured, softly pouting.

jay chuckled. “no, but i’m here if you need me. i know it’s not easy, y/n, and sunghoon’s a little stupid for not seeing that you like him.”

she clicked her tongue as she rolled her eyes. “please, i haven’t shown that i’ve liked him at all. he’s not stupid, he’s just in love with someone else.” when her words actually processed, she felt her heart shatter into a million pieces.

the girl stopped her tracks and lowered her head, causing jay to look back at her with pity.

“y/n..,” he whispered, brows furrowing at her state.

“it’s pathetic, isn’t it?” she chuckled through her pain, tears already flowing down her cheeks. “being in love with someone who only sees me as a friend.”

“it’s not. maybe if you just tell him-“

“what, tell him and make our whole relationship awkward? no. he’s already adamant on going out with her anyway, there’s no point.”

y/n’s head lowered even more, hiding away her puffy, red eyes that were clear in daylight. she let out soft sobs before attempting to shut down her feelings.

✩ ‘promise i don’t mean to cry’ ✩

“sorry, this is gross. i’m not crying anymore, sorry jay-“

✩ ‘but i get overwhelmed and confused’ ✩

in swift seconds, jay pulled her into his embrace and softly squeezed her. “your feelings for sunghoon aren’t stupid. you may be for not telling him any sooner, but your feelings are never invalidated.” he muffled through the hug.

the girl cracked a smile at his words before slapping his arms. “thanks.. that was a little mean but, thanks jay.”

jay beamed a sweet and reassuring smile as he stroked her hair for a second. “what are friends for?” he said.

✩ ‘some day, someone will like me like i like you’ ✩

“are you still planning to go to class?”

“should i..? after i cried..?”

he cackled a laugh, shining a smile towards her before mumbling, “it’s up to you, but i honestly wouldn’t. you can always catch up too..,”

y/n turned her head to look at him. “are you suggesting that you skip with me?”

“who said i was skipping??” the tall male grinned ear to ear as he watched her exasperate a sigh out.

“you cant tell me to skip and not have you skip with me!”

“fine.. i’ll skip with you.” jay sighed in defeat. “but we have to get the others to skip too!”

“deal! i was already texting dae!”

the two laughed before making a weird U-turn from their pathway.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

eventually, their plan to skip only turned into a library study session. and with such short timing, only a few were willing to do it — dae, min-su, ji-woo, and niki.

the rest were either still in class, at home already, or in some cases, asking their crush out.

so when it was just the six in one big table, everything was chaotically quiet.

y/n sat next to her three closest friends while jay and niki silently bickered here and there.

“i cant believe jungwon didn’t come, he’s usually always down for these study sessions.” niki snorted.

“well wonie wasn’t feeling it today so he just went home.” dae butted in, eyes staying glued to his laptop.

jay huffed out a sigh. “this is a little boring.. i thought we were gonna do something more fun when we skipped, y/n.”

“well, we have to catch up for the work we missed.”

“remind me to never skip with you again..,”

the group quietly laughed together as jay continued — “seriously, y/n, what was the point if we were going to do something like study?”

“i just didn’t want to listen to my professor talk,” she scowled.

“let’s go eat somewhere, at least!” the male frowned, eyes rolling at how much she was concentrating.

“i wouldn’t mind eating..,” niki chimed in.

“let’s go!” yelled ji-woo, getting everyone hyped up to leave.

y/n immediately jumped up from her cushioned seat with a beam — “okay! i just have to go pee first.”

“do you want us to wait for you?”

“no it’s fine, jay needs to get the car anyway so just come around the block and i’ll be here.”

a few debates on staying with the girl was made before she ultimately convinced jay to just let them go first.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

once y/n was finally done, she brought herself to the front of the library. as she stepped out, she finally heard the heavy rain drops pour from outside.

the campus was flooded with wet puddles and muddy sidewalks. she exaggerated a sigh as she covered herself with a hoodie.

“should’ve just had someone wait with me,” she mumbled under her breath.

the girl glanced back and forth, from left to right to ensure nothing was in her way, but once she did so, she completely hated the sight she came across.

a few ways down from her once-peripheral vision, y/n saw sunghoon and wonyoung wrapped around each other in a hug.

she immediately found it hard to breathe with how tight her heart began to clench onto every single ache. tears ran through her cheeks as she watched from afar.

the only thing that further confirmed his stated plans from earlier were the dim lights on campus — exhibiting how well hoon was wrapping his arms around her, how well they fit each other like puzzle pieces.

she bit her lips as she tried to swallow back another crying sob, but she just couldn’t help it.

y/n was watching her closest friend fall in love with someone else this entire time, and she’s always been able to somewhat sustain it. but now? now, he would actually be with wonyoung, instead of the girl who’s been in love with him since high school.

✩ ‘if only you knew what i felt like’ ✩

her breath hitched as every memory of her and hoon being potentially more flashed away in an instant. she’d always thought that maybe on some level, she’d get with sunghoon because of how well it went for all three of her close friends to find their special someone from being friends first.

but that little fragment of hope she had left for something possible was now crushed to a pulp.

✩ ‘some day, one day’ ✩

it wasn’t like the movies where the two friends realize their love for each other, and y/n knew that now. because if it was anything like that, hoon wouldn’t have been so excited to tell her everything that he knew about wonyoung.

he would’ve just confessed his feelings, and baam, happy ending.

but yet again, it wasn’t like the movies.

so she harshly wiped her tears away and though no one was around, she couldn’t help but be thankful for the heavy raindrops that blended her tears in with it. a half smile plastered across her face in revelation to that while sighing.

‘happy for you..,’ y/n thought to herself as she pulled out her phone.

✩ ‘i will stop falling in love with you’ ✩

beads of water from the rain plopped on her phone in a quick pace while she texted a family member — ‘can you come pick me up?’

she bit her lips before leaving to her shared group chat with her beloved friends.

y/n <33:

hey.. i just remembered that i have an exam next week so i have to study for it

go ahead and eat without me tho!! my brother’s already on his way so don’t worry abt any of that! :)

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

You have an exam??

Why didn’t you tell us!

Just come out anyway 🥰

hee’s fav 🤍:

yeah one day won’t hurt!

jake’s girl 🫂:

jay’s taking forever but yeah, just come y/n!

y/n’s eyes glistened when she felt another wave of emotions hit her. they didn’t even know she was going through such a thing, and it hurt that she couldn’t tell them yet.

y/n <33:

no it’s okayy, another time!

a buzz to her phone was made before she found her brother pulling up. she ran to the car with a shaky breath, and soon, they drove away from the heartbreaking sight.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

when the girl got home, she immediately ran to her room and sobbed her eyes out. she broke down in a crying mess after holding it in in front of her brother.

tears streamed down her cheeks and snot filled her nose with every hiccup in her throat.

“i’m an idiot,” y/n grumbled in a scratchy whisper.

just then, her phone rang like crazy and she peeked over. her three friends were calling, most likely to call and talk like they do every night, but she couldn’t do it. not right now.

so she declined it, and a few other buzzed calls from them.

y/n ignored the flooding texts of concerns and playful frustrations before coming across a few from sunghoon.

hoonie 🤍:

You busy??

I have to tell you how it went, y/n

Text me back as soon as possible! I have such good news 🙂🙂

her heart sank. of course he had good news, she was there to witness it. but she was a good friend after all.

✩ ‘until i do, i’ll be thinking of you’ ✩

y/n <33:

oh really?? what happened?

✩ ‘then of course i’ll let you break my heart again’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

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gumiluver · 3 months

Text

TWO PRETTY BEST FRIENDS! ~ JUJUTSU KAISEN

synopsis: what happens when two pretty best friends get you in their grasp?

cover pic credit: k1tty_4ndy on pinterest |border credit: @/cafekitsune

lovers <3: gojo satoru x afab!reader x geto suguru

byr/byi: the content in this fic is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18, minors please do not interact (you will be blocked!)

cw: nsfw, pwp, fingering, oral (f. receiving), manhandling, threesome (mfm), dirty talk (suguru’s a slut with his words), squirting, pet names

an: hope y’all enjoy! I’m considering making this a series with different jjk!best friend pairings!…lmk if you guys would be interested in smthn like that <3

“Ohh, do that again—she likes that,” Suguru groans, enchanted by the way your pretty eyes cross in a haze of lust-filled bliss. He’s got you in between his legs, a fistful of your hair in his grasp, making you angle your head up towards him so he can gaze upon your innocent face and watch it slowly morph into the fucked out cumslut he knows his good girl is.

“Hah, ‘course she does,” Gojo snickers, reveling at how your sweet pussy drips oh so deliciously for him.

“It’s ‘cause of me isn’t it, princess? You like when your ‘toru touches you right…” he trails off, creating an even deeper ache in your already pulsing cunt. He slowly weaves his index and middle finger through your folds to find your dripping core and finishes off his remark with a thrust of his fingers,”…here.”

“Ngghhh—fuuuck!!” you cry, overtaken by the intrusion of Satoru’s fingers that were, yet again, making their way into your gummy walls. His fingers move with purpose and certainty, hooking them toward your plush womb with the sole intention of abusing that spongy spot that makes you weep for him.

You felt like you were suffocating. Geto’s firm grip on your hair and neck leaves you squirming in his hold, but he’s quick to put you back in your place, “be good for us sweetheart, I’d hate to have to punish you so soon,” he chides, secretly hoping that you’d start to lose your rationality and step out of line. The shiver that rides along your spine doesn’t go unnoticed by Suguru, and he takes pride in knowing how his words sway you towards submission.

It seems like Satoru was able to read his best friend's intentions and wanted nothing more than to aid him in your descent, noting how Suguru’s clenched jaw and bulging arm veins hold him hostage from his true desires. He could see the sheer restraint that his best friend was holding onto, and Gojo would be lying if he said he wasn’t holding himself back as well.

Because fuck—look at ya.

Your head was thrown back, sheer ecstasy written on your face as Satoru quickened his pace, effectively fingering you into an early orgasm that had you squirting all over the two. The moans and cries you let out have both men grunting like animals, humping up into the air to gain some sort of friction on their sensitive cocks. Your hips sway in tandem with Satoru’s fingers, making both men become hypnotized by the very essence of your being. Both men drooling like fucking dogs, waiting to sink their teeth into you, waiting for your beck n’ call. The glistening sheen that radiates from your body resembles an innocent-like aura, just begging to be corrupted—and corrupt they shall.

Satoru’s already conjured up his own sick and twisted plans, wanting to get you an all fours to fuck you from behind while watching his pretty best friend fuck his lover's mouth.

And of course, Suguru had his own salacious desires, aching to see you split on top of his dick as he watches his pretty best friend jerk off at the sight of him fucking you.

And you? Well, you’d be happy if either of them would hurry up and fuck you already—the endless teasing starting to weave between the lines of pleasure and pain. Satoru continues to overstimulate your poor cunt and Suguru’s grip on you makes you yearn for something harder—something rougher.

Satoru’s ability of forethought seemed to have played in your favor as well, seeing as he can’t help but gaze at your sweet cunt that’s just begging to be filled. You can see his cock strain against his boxer briefs, an occasional twitch or two catching your attention and making you drool—wanting to taste his heavy tip.

Your gaze is hyper-fixated on Satoru’s cock now, your body moving forward—like a magnet being drawn to its force. But before you could even reach him, you feel yourself get pulled back into Suguru’s chest, “Ah—ah—ah, where do you think you’re going, pretty girl? Did you forget about me?”

You look up towards Suguru again, puppy dog eyes on full display to convey your innocence, “n-no!! I’d never forget you Sugu~” you cry, reaching up to place a warm hand on his cheek. You look over to Satoru who’s watching the two of you intently and beckon him over, wanting to please both your lovers equally, “Just wanna feel you—both of you.”

And who were they to deny their precious baby? The one and only person that could make them drop to their knees and beg for just a simple taste of you. The single most important person in the world to them. And most importantly, the only person that they are willing to share and love, together.

“Mmmm—fuckin’ love hearin’ you cry for us, such a desperate little thing. Isn’t that right, Satoru?” Suguru says, a cocky smirk adorning his face as he sees your blush darken over your cheeks. He squeezes your cheeks together with one hand, loving the way your plump limps perk together for him to kiss and suck on.

“Mhm~, poor baby’s just drippin’ for us,” Satoru responds, lowering his head down towards your cunt. Before you can protest, before you can even beg for their cocks, Suguru covers your mouth and pins your body on top of his. His forearm holding you down as Satoru spreads your thighs open again but this time, to suckle at your pink bud, and the whimper that you let out is like fucking music to their ears.

“I know you want our cocks sweetheart, but we gotta prep you more. Just relax, let us make you feel good,” Suguru charms, lulling you into a state of naivety to get you to blindly trust them. With the multiple orgasms that Satoru has been pulling from you coupled with Suguru’s debauched speech, you were more than ready to take both of them at this point.

But this? This was pure greed, from both men.

Suguru, wanting to see just how much you can handle before you’re a fucked out crying mess, begging to be stuffed with their cocks. And Satoru, reveling in your taste and secretly hoping to get you to squirt on his face.

Both men had their filthy little plans of watching you come undone, and both were intrigued by what the other’s plans were to get you to come undone.

And you? Well, all you could do was take it. Take the pleasurable torment. Take what they give you and then some.

After all, who knows what these two pretty best friends have in store for you in the long run?

an: what did you guys think?? I love hearing your feedback and what you enjoyed!! Should I make this a series? <33

As always, likes, comments, follows, reblogs, and any other form of interaction is greatly appreciated <3 #supportcreators

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