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gojoux · 3 months

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『 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄 』

· Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

· Summary: Life has decided to lead you to him or lead him to you, knowing that you two are destined together despite your differences. This told story is just a glimpse of a few memories between you and him, one that he remembers dearly.

· CW: 8.6k // Mostly fluff. True Form!Sukuna. Heian Era. Overprotective + Possessive Sukuna. Very subtle sex scenes. Slight violence.

Late post because the app screwed me over a divider. As you see... it’s thicker like him than usual.

The infamous King of Curses had only one weakness—you.

Ryomen Sukuna, the most fearsome sorcerer (or used to be one) alive, would melt in your presence. His usual cold and cruel demeanor vanished when he was with you, replaced by a gentle sweetness he showed to no other.

From the very first moment your paths crossed, he was utterly enthralled, something he would never expect to feel in his life. You’re someone he doesn’t even know or heard of and he doesn’t find the appeal from you, but there’s just something about you that makes him enchanted at first sight.

Your luminous soul called to him like a song. He knew you were destined to be his. And so he courted you as tenderly as his blackened heart would allow, coaxing you to return his affections.

Slowly, gently, he broke down your defenses. His smoldering gazes made your heart flutter. His feather-light touches from his big, strong hands and fingers sent shivers down your spine. Before long, you realized you were falling for this demon who looked at you with such longing in his crimson eyes.

He could shower you with all the passion and devotion he had been holding back. He cherishes you, catering to your every desire. Just being near you was euphoric for him.

When apart, he counted the seconds until he could see you again. And when reunited, he was unable to keep his hands off you, showering you with passionate kisses and whispers of sweet words.

“You are mine. Remember that,” he would murmur against your skin as he held you close. “Always.”

You had tamed the beast. Or so you thought.

While Sukuna was nearly defenseless against your love, it also ignited something far more sinister—his jealousy.

The mere idea of losing you made his blood burn with rage. Other men were not even permitted to look at you, lest they get torn limb from limb.

Though deeply in love, Sukuna’s possessive nature remained. And woe befall any who dared threaten what was his.

The first time it happened was weeks after you’d become his. A young lord from a clan sent you gifts and flowers, seeking your affection. When Sukuna discovered this, the fury in his eyes turned them molten gold.

“He dares think he can steal you away from me?” Sukuna seethed. In an instant, he vanished to hunt down the offending lord.

He returned hours later drenched in blood that was not his own. You shuddered to imagine what cruel fate had befallen the misguided young man. Sukuna said nothing of it, simply pulled you into a bruising kiss and swore you’d never leave his side again.

After that, the corpses started piling up.

A guard who eyed you lasciviously, eviscerated.

A peasant whose longing stare lingered too long, executed.

Anyone who so much as looked at you with desire was signing their own death warrant.

You begged Sukuna to show mercy, but your pleas fell on deaf ears. “They try to take what is mine,” he would snarl. “They deserve no less than agony and death.”

His demonic nature had fully resurfaced, and you realized just what you had unleashed. Sukuna would slaughter legions and burn the world to ashes if it meant keeping you.

You were terrified of what he had become. Yet some traitorous part of you thrilled at being so coveted, so passionately loved, even if it came at a bloody cost.

He was an obsession incarnate, and you, his obsession.

No matter where you turned, his shadow loomed.

There would be no escaping the King of Curses’ dark desires.

You were his.

How did it all start? It’s been too long since it went past your head already.

But you do remember vividly when you were walking that one night when your gut told you not to, you did.

You should have listened to your instincts. But there was something about the forest at night that called to you, beckoning you to explore its moon-bathed paths and whispering trees.

Curiosity won out over caution, and you decided one quick walk couldn’t hurt.

You set out just after sunset, relishing the kiss of cool night air on your skin. The woods were serene and lovely in the deep blue hush just before true darkness fell. Night blooms perfumed the air as you wandered along aimlessly, simply savoring this secret world.

Until you realized you had lost your way. Suddenly the trees seemed more ominous, the shadows deeper. You paused, peering anxiously through the gloom.

How long have you been walking?

Which way was home?

As you turned around in circles trying to get your bearings, a blow of wind appeared behind you. You froze, heartbeat thudding in your ears.

“Well, what do we have here?”

You whipped around with a gasp. Emerging from the trees was a tall, powerfully built man. But what drew your wide-eyed stare were the four arms crossed onto his bare, toned chest.

You stumbled back in terror, but he moved unnaturally fast, appearing before you in an instant. Up close, details that had escaped you at a distance were now frighteningly clear. Tattoos are carved on his face and body. His eyes burned crimson.

You were face to face with the King of Curses himself.

“Please…” you whimpered, trembling. “I mean no trespass...”

Sukuna tilted his head, considering you with evident amusement. He reached out an arm towards you, his fingers gliding along your jaw, tipping your chin up. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for death.

But instead of tearing you apart, he simply chuckled. “Open your eyes. I will not harm you.”

You cracked them open hesitantly. Sukuna was observing you closely now, intrigued.

“Fear not. I merely wondered who was wandering my woods at this late hour,” he purred. “But I see now… you are no threat at all.”

His touch was surprisingly gentle as he traced the line of your throat. You shivered but did not dare pull away. The heat of his skin felt feverish against yours.

“What brings you here to me, I wonder?” he murmured, his piercing gaze seeming to lay your soul bare.

He tutted, circling you slowly. “These woods are dangerous at night, especially for tempting morsels like yourself. Do you have any idea what lurks in the shadows?” He paused expectantly, but you were too petrified to respond.

You licked your dry lips nervously. “I… I was simply exploring. I did not mean to disturb—”

“Quiet.” A finger pressed lightly over your mouth. “How shall I punish this trespass? I do hate uninvited guests.”

You finally found your voice, though it trembled pitifully. “P-please, I meant no intrusion. If you let me go, I swear I will never—”

“Let you go?” Sukuna tilted his head, looking almost offended. “Now, why would I do that? No, you will not be leaving.”

Your heart hammered at those enigmatic words. Just what did this dangerous being want with you? Surely not anything good.

As if reading your mind, Sukuna laughed once more. “Worry not, little one. I only wish for some company.” In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between you, caging you with his body. This close, the heat pouring off him was incredible, the coils of his tattoos seeming to slither and shift before your eyes with your heart hammering wildly.

A violent shudder went through you, though not entirely from fear now. Being clasped in his strong embrace had stirred something unexpected within you. A strange exhilaration at having caught the eye of this exotic and terrible being.

He leaned down, inhaling deeply near the crook of your neck. “Mm, such fear. I can taste it rolling off your skin… intoxicating.” His lips grazed your fluttering pulse, making you shudder. “You are afraid, yet also thrilled to see me, aren’t you?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. Was it that obvious, the traitorous excitement you felt being so close to this dangerous demon? You just couldn’t tear your eyes away from his unusual beauty.

“I thought so,” he purred, looking utterly satisfied. He brushed a finger lightly down your cheek. “It seems fate has brought you to me for a reason.”

Sukuna sensed your reaction and made a small pleased noise. In one smooth motion, he swept you up into his arms and started carrying you deeper into the woods.

You gasped, hands braced against the solid muscles of his shoulder. “Where are you taking me? Please, I never meant to intrude! I am sorry! just—”

“Shut it.” His grip tightened. “Do not fight me. Submit, and it will go easier for you.”

Tears of panic spilled down your cheeks. But despite your fear, you felt your body responding to his proximity, pulsing with alarming warmth. Your thoughts scattered as Sukuna claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, tasting your helpless whimper.

“What are you…” you gasped, too speechless to find a word to fight back.

As if reading your mind again, Sukuna adjusts the way he’s carrying you to brush his lips against your own in a feather-light caress. “I hope you are not too afraid, little one. I have been alone for so long, you will keep me company. And I have no intention of letting you go.”

Some part of you recognized the truth in his words. No matter how your mind recoiled, your body was betraying you, longing for more of his addictive caresses. He sensed your crumbling resistance, his smile triumphant.

“You are mine now. Do not fight it.”

You stared around in awe at the sprawling shinden-zukuri as Sukuna placed you down and led you inside. Paper screens glowed warmly with lantern light, illuminating opulent tatami rooms decorated with priceless scrolls and vases, and through meticulously tended gardens dotted with tranquil ponds. Everything about this place spoke of immense power and wealth.

It was a far cry from your own humble village dwelling. You could scarcely fathom how a demon lord had come to possess such a magnificent noble estate out here in the remote forest.

As Sukuna guided you deeper into the manse, you passed several elegantly dressed women in simple yet elegant kimonos, all keeping their gazes demurely lowered.

‘Servants,’ you realized. But where had they come from? Were they taken like how you are now? Were you about to become another of his servants?

When you reached the main manor, Sukuna slid open the screen to reveal a grand receiving chamber. Priceless ink scrolls and painted silk screens adorned the walls. The opulence was staggering.

“Do you like it?” he asked, noting your awe. “I claimed this estate long ago from its previous owners.”

You shivered at the implication behind those words but said nothing as he guided you deeper inside.

Your bemused wondering was interrupted when Sukuna slid open a screen door, ushering you into a lavish bed chamber. A large futon covered in silks took up most of the space.

“You must be weary, little one,” he stroked your hair. “Rest now. I will have my servants draw you a bath.”

He pressed his lips to your forehead before gliding from the room. Still stunned by your opulent surroundings, you wandered over to the open window. Beyond the manicured gardens and koi ponds you could see nothing but dense forest stretching endlessly. Just how far had Sukuna brought you?

You had little time to ponder before two servant women appeared, bowing deeply. They poured hot water into a carved wooden tub and then added cherry blossom-scented oils.

You let them help you disrobe and sink into the fragrant bath, the tension in your muscles unwinding. The demon’s domain was still terrifying and foreign, but you couldn’t deny the comforts he lavished upon you. His possession had a gentleness to it that left you conflicted.

This place treated you better in less than two hours than your whole life in the village.

After your bath, the servants dressed you in silken robes layered in rich hues of wisteria and spring leaves. Darkened your lips with crushed berries. They arranged your hair with jade combs and dabbed perfume at your wrists in a courtly fashion.

Examining their work in a bronze mirror, you barely recognized yourself. The simple village girl staring back from the bronze mirror was gone, replaced by someone who looked like a noblewoman.

Sukuna was waiting when you emerged, hungry eyes sweeping over you appreciatively. “Beautiful,” he pulls you close to him. His lips grazed your wrist, inhaling the perfume there. “You will come to appreciate the comforts of being mine.” His words sent an illicit tingle through you.

“Thank you,” was all you could say as you felt your body sway toward him, eyelashes fluttering downward demurely. His attentions were clouding your caution, making you forget the circumstances that had brought you here.

Sukuna seemed pleased by your response. He took your hand and led you to a candlelit room where a feast awaited. You kneeled on plush cushions across from him. There, your eyes widen at the sight—dishes you could only dream of tasting.

“Uraume is my best cook. They know how to make delicious food,” he brags, pointing at the person with white bob hair with his eyes. Uraume bowed respectfully before excusing themselves.

As the night deepened, Sukuna kept your cup full, his burning gaze holding yours in the romantic glow. Here in this place of luxury, it was easy to forget he was someone who had stolen you away.

“Come.” He held out one of his hands. “It is time you rested.”

Back in the bed chamber, he guided you down onto silken sheets while your pulse quickened. His eyes roamed your body hungrily before he leaned down to claim your lips in a deep kiss. You knew you should resist, but his touch ignited a dangerous fire inside.

His fingers trailed delicately along your skin as he peeled away each layer of your robes until you were laid bare before him. “You are so lovely, little one,” he rasped. He pressed you down into the silken futon, his eyes focused on you. “I will teach you pleasures fit for an empress,” he growled.

“And you will learn to crave my body above all else.”

His words sent a spike of fear through you, even as your traitorous body responded hungrily to his. His burning caress left no doubt of his intentions. You trembled, but didn’t refuse him.

Here in this beautiful prison, you were his to do with as he pleased. And some traitorous part of you craved to experience the passions he promised.

As Sukuna’s body covered yours, you surrendered completely to him. Within these walls, you now belonged utterly to him.

You had been living as Sukuna’s pampered pet in his lavish manor for several days now. He gifted you an ornate silk kimono, adorned your hair with jeweled combs, and ensured you lacked nothing. At night, he would lay you across silken futons and set your body aflame with new realms of pleasure.

But each morning after, as he caressed your skin and murmured endearments, doubts crept in. Were there others that he touched this way? The thought filled you with unease.

You wanted his passion reserved only for you.

When Sukuna appeared in your room this evening, he found you quiet and distant, your smile restrained. Brow furrowing, he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

“What troubles you, little one? Have I not provided for you well?”

You gathered your courage. “I… I have a request, My Lord…”

He raised one brow, “Oh? Speak.”

“If we are to share such intimacy, I wish it to be only between us. No other lover, in any way.” You held his gaze evenly. “Will you vow this, please?”

For a moment Sukuna only stared, stunned by your bold demand. Then a sly smile curved his lips.

“My little one wishes to tame me, is that it?” He trailed a finger lightly down your cheek. “You seek to bind me to yourself alone?”

Heart pounding, you gave one short nod.

Sukuna threw back his head with a delighted laugh. “You fascinate me endlessly. No mortal has ever dared make demands of me.” His expression softened by looking at your innocent face. “But for you, I will agree.”

He leans down, face to face with you, “From now on, I am yours alone.”

Relief washed through you at his oath. As Sukuna drew you into a passionate kiss, you yielded completely for the first time, holding nothing back.

“My sweet, little love…” He lifted you in his arms. “I will make you forget any existed before this night.”

And he did. Laying you down, hands and lips he worshiped you, wringing gasps and cries from your lips as you arched desperately, mindless and pleading beneath him.

At the height of ecstasy, his burning gaze held yours. His heated gaze seared into yours at the pinnacle, fierce and possessive. “No other shall ever know you as I do.”

The feeling when your body joined, the sensation was beyond words, it felt like coming home. Like a missing piece of your soul had been restored. Wave after wave of bliss crested over you both, leaving you entwined in breathless ecstasy.

As lantern light faded to silvery moonbeams, Sukuna held you close, your heartbeats synchronizing. You now belonged only to each other in body, heart, and soul.

“Mine,” Sukuna rasped against your skin, his canine digging into your neck, marking you as his. “Just as I am yours. This, I vow to you, little one, from now until the end of days.”

His words echoed long in your mind, even as spent passion gave way to sleep in his enveloping embrace. The King of Curses himself was now bound to you irrevocably. And you to him.

The vow had been spoken, the ritual complete.

The days had settled into a predictable routine in Sukuna’s residence. He would vanish for hours or even full days to attend to mysterious “business”, leaving you to wander the chambers and gardens alone. You never ask where he went or what occupied him. Some fears were best left unspoken.

But your heart would lift eagerly whenever Sukuna returned, no matter how late the hour. Just knowing he had come back to you was enough. You took to waiting anxiously by the engawa, ready to greet him.

At first, he returned spotless and composed. But soon the blood became noticeable.

It would decorate his arms, spatter his chest and face in drying rust-colored patterns. The life essence of whatever poor souls had crossed him in the nearby villages. You didn’t need to ask how it got there.

The first time, you gasped and shrank back in horror. But Sukuna just smiled and opened his arms to you. “Come, let us get cleansed of the day’s exertions.”

You forced yourself to look past the gore, seeing only your demonic lord who needed tending. Taking his hand, you led him to the bath chamber.

There you gently sponged away the carnage, breathing relief when his skin emerged clean again. Sukuna watched you intently, eyes glowing with unspoken emotions. You didn’t dare examine it too closely.

When you were done, he would pull you into his lap, nuzzling against your throat almost tenderly. As if your ministries had tamed the beast lurking within.

“My little one,” he would rumble. And your heart would swell under his praises.

Before long, you began living for his returns. The hours apart stretched endlessly, your thoughts consumed with concern for his well-being. Your chest would tighten with loneliness in his absence. Maybe you craved him because you have no one to come home to, that’s why you are willing to be with him.

Surely he must share your needs, right?

The moment his shadow appeared down the corridor, you flew to him, embracing him heedless of any lingering blood. Sukuna laughed indulgently, hands gentling your desperation.

“Such passion, little one. Did you miss me so terribly?”

You nodded, not caring how you exposed your dependence on him. He tipped your chin up, his sharp eyes looking at you softly. “As I missed you. The time apart is agony.”

His admission made you smile in relief. After bathing him, you would prepare tea and draw him into quiet conversation, savoring this domestic intimacy. Here with you, he almost seemed content.

At late night, his lovemaking took on new urgency, as if reaffirming your bond. You matched his intensity, wanting to erase any distance the day had built between you.

“You are all I need,” he whispered afterward, cradling you close. And you knew then you were hopelessly lost to this dangerous creature. He had become your entire world.

When Sukuna departed each morning, part of you went with him. Until he returned to make you whole once more. There was no denying the truth—you were his, mind, body, and soul.

You see, life with Sukuna provided came at a terrible price—the waiting.

And so you hatched a plan.

You requested the finest silks from the seamstress and described the revealing garment you wished to craft. An elegant yet alluring yukata, hinting at the beauty beneath.

On the night of his homecoming, you adorned yourself carefully, arranging your hair over your bare shoulders, sketching your lips crimson. The ensemble left you feeling exposed, but also powerful.

When Sukuna entered the bed chamber, the sight of you made him halt in his tracks. Eyes widened as they traced over you hungrily, taking in every contour the diaphanous fabric outlined.

“Little one,” he rasped. “You look like divinity itself. What is all this for?”

You steeled your nerves and went to him, guiding his fingers to untie your sash with hands that trembled.

“I wish to ease your burdens tonight, My Lord. Will you permit me?”

A growl escapes his throat as your robes slip to the floor. The intensity of his gaze seared into your skin everywhere it touched. Strong arms pulled you fiercely against him.

“You test my restraint, beloved. Are you certain?”

At your whispered yes, his control shattered. With infinite care he bore you down onto silken sheets, praising every inch of newly bared flesh until you were dizzy and pleading.

Even at its peak, he kept the pace languid—long, delirious strokes of passion. The pleasure was sweet agony. You arched and moved as one, minds entwining as deeply as your bodies.

When it ended, you were changed. Sukuna held you tenderly as languor claimed you both, as if you were the most precious treasure in the world.

Perhaps you should have been afraid of this obsessive devotion. But you could not imagine life without him now.

As nice as it is living comfortably with everything provided for you, sometimes his residence becomes a gilded cage. You yearned to walk beyond the gardens, to visit the nearby villages you glimpsed from afar.

After much pleading, Sukuna finally relented. “If it will make you happy, we shall go. But you must stay close to me.” His eyes held an unspoken warning.

The day came at last. Taking his arm, you ventured out onto the winding forest paths, buzzing with excitement. Sukuna watched you closely, as if to imprint each delighted reaction.

When the first simple thatched dwellings came into view, you gasped. “Oh, look! Real village life, just as I remembered.”

“Then let us explore it,” he said indulgently, strolling by your side.

You moved through stalls selling woven reed baskets, hand-dyed yukata, and carved jade amulets. The smells of grilling fish and blossom-scented steam from tea houses mingled in the air. Your smile was radiant.

Most villagers averted their eyes and scrambled away at the sight of his presence. But their fearful deference only seemed to amuse Sukuna as he guided you along.

Pausing by a fountain, you turned joyfully to him. “Thank you for this, My Lord. I haven’t felt this happy in…” Your voice trailed off as you noticed a young man staring from across the village square. His gaze was fixed on you, his handsome face breaking into a flirtatious grin, looking at you with his eyes signaling interest.

Before you could react, Sukuna had crossed the distance between them in two swift strides. You watched in horror as he seized the insolent youth by the throat and slammed him against a wall, baring razor fangs.

“You dare look at her that way?” he thundered. The young man choked out pleas for mercy as Sukuna’s grip tightened relentlessly.

“My Lord! Stop!” You rushed over, clutching his arm. “I beg you, let him go!”

With obvious reluctance, Sukuna released his hold and stepped back. The terrified man crumpled to the ground, wheezing with his face pale. You tugged Sukuna (he didn’t resist) away quickly as onlookers gaped.

Once you were back within the secluded forest path, he rounded on you. “Why did you stop me?” he demanded, eyes still burning with fury. “That whelp was openly desiring what is mine.”

You trembled. “He meant no true offense, My Lord.”

Sukuna exhaled harshly, drawing you against him. “You are too forgiving, little one. Next time I may not be so lenient.” The promise in his voice chilled you.

Nonetheless, in the days that followed, you persuaded him to let you visit the village markets again. Sukuna acquiesced, but his mood turned brooding whenever you went out together.

It was not long before a repeat incident occurred. A passing noble’s gaze lingered on you a moment too long. Sukuna's reaction was swift and merciless. Before you could intervene, the shrieking lord was engulfed in infernal flames, his ashes scattering to the wind.

This time, Sukuna was deaf to your pleas for restraint. “They continue testing me, presuming they can admire my possession with impunity,” he snarled. “I will suffer this insult no more.”

Numb with horror, you could say nothing as he took your arm and led you from that place of death.

Sukuna would never change his nature. His jealousy and possessiveness were as innate as the demonic power coursing through his veins. And you were helpless to curb them.

Trying to tame such a savage spirit had been foolish. Where his claim over you was concerned, no mercy would ever sway him.

The journey back to the estate was made in tense silence. You could feel the rage rolling off Sukuna in scorching waves as he strode ahead. His jaw was granite, fists clenched and shaking.

Only once you were behind the privacy of the chamber walls did he finally unleash it.

“How can you defend him?” he roared, making you flinch. “Those pathetic mortals who dared to covet what is not theirs. It is unacceptable!”

You stood your ground. “I make no defense, only ask that you temper reactions. This endless jealousy causes nothing but suffering.”

Sukuna’s eyes blazed, his voice dropping to a dangerous hiss. “You ask me to watch passively as they dishonor my claim on you? To permit their vulgar ogling?” He swept a hand savagely across a lacquered table, sending the vase crashing.

You jumped at the destruction but forced yourself to meet his volcanic glare. “I am not possession or prize to be claimed, My Lord. You cannot punish all for one foolish man’s gaze. I have told you this before, but I am not harmed.”

“Not harmed?” Sukuna bellowed, slamming his fists into the bloodwood pillar with a crack. “Not yet! But their desire will grow brazen if I do not act decisively now.”

He stormed toward you, making you back away instinctively. “You are mine. No other shall covet or touch what belongs to me. I would see this whole wretched village burn first.”

As his tirade raged on, you felt tears rising, spilling silently down your cheeks. The possessive diatribes, the limitless fury—you were exposing the folly of trying to gentle the devil’s heart.

Sukuna abruptly halted his pacing at the sight, chest heaving. His blazing eyes took in your hunched, trembling form. For an instant, something like shock flickered across his face. He blinked rapidly, swaying slightly.

“No… My little love…” All at once, the frenzied anger seemed to drain from him. He reached for you hesitantly, as if expecting you to recoil. When you stayed rooted, he enfolded you in his shaking arms.

“Forgive me,” Sukuna whispered. “I should not have raised my voice. But the thought of losing you…” One hand stroked your hair, then gently tipped your chin up. His thumb brushed away the tear tracks on your skin.

“You are everything to me in this wretched world,” he murmured. “I could not bear it if harm befell you.” His eyes were molten and his voice raw. “Tell me you know I would never let anything hurt you, not even myself in the madness of my rage.”

You searched his face and saw the sincerity burning there. With a fragile nod, you laid your head against his chest. His exhale was ragged with relief.

“I will try to be more merciful. For you, at least,” he sighs. “But you must understand it rages in my blood when I see them desire my most precious treasure.”

You stayed silent in his embrace. Perhaps this was the most he could concede—ferocity tempered with remorse. You could not change his possessive heart, only help him master what flowed within it.

And for now, it would have to be enough. His jealousy was a storm that would never fully be calmed. But like the storm’s eye, at the center there was still tenderness he reserved only for you.

Once more, the days dragged endlessly when Sukuna was away. You had explored every corner of the estate a dozen times over. The loneliness gnawed at you.

So when he left at dawn one morning, you made an impulsive decision. Donning a cloak, you slipped outside the manor walls while the servants slept. Your steps quickened as you neared the hill path leading down to the village.

You had only meant to take a brief, harmless walk to lift your spirits. But the smells of grilled squid and sweet adzuki buns drew you like a magnet. Your stomach rumbled, reminding you it had been ages since you tasted simple street food.

Checking over your shoulder, you darted to the nearest food stall when no one was looking. The elderly vendor smiled in delight as you pointed to the snacks that tempted you most. It felt deliciously naughty, this minor rebellion.

You were waiting for the bamboo skewer of piping hot squid when someone jostled you from behind. Whirling around angrily, you found yourself staring up at a rugged, unkempt man looming over you. His bloodshot eyes raked down your body in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Well now, what do we have here?” His words slurred drunkenly. “You’re that demon’s little toy, ain’t ya? His pretty pet.”

When you shrank away, the brute caught your wrist in a painful grip. Revulsion rose in you. “Let go of me!”

The man just sneered. “Where is your master now, hmm? Bet he doesn’t like you sneakin’ off alone.” He swayed closer, sour breath hot on your face. “Maybe I oughta teach you some manners, whore.”

Outraged tears stung your eyes. You opened your mouth to scream for help when suddenly the man’s hand was wrenched away from you with a sickening crack. His shriek split the air.

Whirling around, you saw Sukuna standing there, eyes blazing infernos. The man who had seized you was now suspended off the ground, clutching his mangled, dangling arm.

“Please, mercy!” he whimpered piteously. But Sukuna’s face was a merciless stone.

With a snarl, he slammed the offender down, pinning him by the throat. “You dare speak to her that way?” His voice was deathly quiet. “Dare lay your filthy hands upon her?”

The man gurgled pleas, legs kicking uselessly. Sukuna tightened his grip. “No. There will be no mercy for you.”

And before your eyes, he ripped the man’s head from his body in one savage motion. Blood sprayed hot across your face and cloak. The headless corpse slumped with a wet thud that echoed horribly in your ears.

You stood there, frozen. You’re sick to the stomach—it’s nauseating—looking at the brutal sight that your lover could do.

Rooted in shock, you barely registered Sukuna turning to you. He grasped your shoulders firmly. “Did he hurt you?” At your numb shake of the head, fiery rage flooded back into his eyes.

“Good. Because I would have drawn out his torment for years if he had.” With that, Sukuna flung the lifeless body contemptuously through the door of a nearby hut.

Screams arose from within as you stared at the gore coating Sukuna’s hands. The brutality finally jolted you from horrified paralysis. Voice trembling, you begged him to take you home.

The journey back was made in silence. Once behind the walls, Sukuna rounded on you like the last time.

“How could you go without my permission?” He paced like a caged beast. “See what nearly befell you? The filth who could do anything to you?”

You flinched beneath the verbal onslaught, too numb to defend yourself as he kept raging.

“You are forbidden from leaving again! Do you understand?” He seized your shoulders roughly. “It is too dangerous for you.”

You nodded, mute and hollow. With a harsh exhale, Sukuna pulls you against him as four of his arms envelop you in a warm embrace, some of the frantic anger leaving him.

“Forgive my harsh words, my little love. But I do not like you being treated like that.” His voice broke on the last word. He clutched you tighter, as if to reassure himself you were real.

After that day, whispers followed you through the residence like ghosts, for no clear reason. Servants offering polite smiles that never reached their eyes, only to resume their hushed gossip once you’d passed.

At first, you tried ignoring the sidelong glances and murmurs. But still, the cruel words leaked through.

“She is just a plaything to him.”

“Once the master is bored, she will be discarded.”

“He is only using her on the bed.”

“Once he tires of those pleasures, her time here will end.”

Their cruel words haunted you, sinking claws into vulnerabilities you’d buried deep. Did they speak the truth? Was your whole purpose here just to entertain Sukuna’s baser appetites? The thought you might be expendable shook you to your core.

You managed to conceal your anguish and distress at first. But the doubts festered, stealing your appetite and sleep. When Sukuna finally noticed the toll on your health, alarm flared in his eyes.

Gently taking your hands, he scoops you onto his lap, facing him. “What is bothering your pretty little head, hm? You know you can tell me anything.”

You shook your head, “It is nothing, My Lord. Not a big problem.”

“I do not like you lying to me, little one,” he shakes his head, not buying your secrecy.

“I am okay. Please, no need to be concerned about me.”

“How can I not? What is it? Tell me,” he holds your chin still to make you look at him.

Both of your stubborn banter goes back and forth until you’re both getting impatient.

You wavered, then spilled out the vile gossip you’d endured in silence. Sukuna listened gravely, thumb idly stroking your wrist. When you finished, he let out a long breath, gazing at you earnestly

“You believe their hateful lies? That you are some plaything to me? You know in your heart these claims are untrue.” He grasped your shoulders, staring intently into your eyes. “You are everything. Your faith in me is worth more than a million mortal lifetimes.”

He brought your hand to his chest, holding it over his steadily beating heart. “Do not let petty jealousies make you doubt what we share.”

Overwhelmed, you buried your face against him. “Forgive my doubts, My Lord,” you whispered.

“There is nothing to forgive. The fault is theirs, not yours.” Stroking your hair, he pressed a fierce kiss to your head. Then his tone turned cold. “As for these spiteful women, I will make them regret ever speaking such lies.”

You quickly squeezed his hands. “Please, do not harm them. I only wished to explain my melancholy, not see others punished.”

Sukuna frowned. “You ask me to ignore those who hurt you so? Who makes you doubt my devotion?” His grip on you tightened. “I cannot be so forgiving.”

“I know it comes from care,” you soothed. “But replying to anger with more anger will only breed misery.”

He paused, then exhaled harshly, pulling you close. Resting his forehead to yours, he went on. “I swear to you, my feelings run deeper than they comprehend.”

“Leave this to me now, little one. Just rest easy.”

True to his word, the gossip ceased quickly. You didn’t ask what Sukuna said or did to silence loose tongues. But the servants now bent over backward to please you, their once spiteful eyes now carefully respectful.

Their newfound reverence somehow bothered you more. But Sukuna seemed satisfied. “Let the wretches make amends for causing you pain,” he said nonchalantly.

Some part of you recoiled at his methods. Yet it warmed your heart to know he would avenge any slight against you without hesitation. Perhaps it was wrong to take comfort from his possessiveness.

But you needed to feel cherished after so much doubt. And Sukuna left no room for uncertainty in how deeply he treasured you. Each tender glance and touch slowly healed the wounds until you were whole again.

When he came to you beneath the silken sheets now, the passion held new meaning. A reaffirming of what you were to each other.

You were his sanctuary. Just as he was yours.

The gossip no longer stung when you knew his heart with such certainty.

Sukuna had told you he was taking a few days off to spend with you. With him home beside you for a blessed few days, the gloom cast over the estate seemed to lift. His four muscular arms caged you securely against his broad chest as you sank comfortably into his embrace.

He was attentive in ways you’d never seen before, constantly drawing you into his arms, asking questions about your childhood, your dreams, anything to get to know you better.

At first, you were shy, unused to being the object of such focused interest. But Sukuna’s patient gentleness soon had the words spilling freely from your lips.

You happily opened up to him in turn, chatting lightly about your days spent tending the garden, studying scripture with the monks, or watching the koi fish circle lazily in their pond. No detail was too small or mundane—he drank in every insight into your character with eyes that never once glazed in boredom.

He listened intently, his crimson eyes focused solely on you. As frightening as he could be, you knew this powerful being cherished you in his own way. You were likely the only person in the world he cared for.

When you finally worked up the courage to ask about his early life in turn, his gaze darkened briefly. “There is little of worth to tell,” he muttered.

He went on tonelessly to describe his parents casting him out as an infant, cursing his existence. Forced to eke out a living on the streets, he learned quickly that mercy was for the weak.

“I was not always like this,” he rumbled. “Once I was a human, born to parents who did not want me.” His fingers tensed where they rested on your back. “As an infant, they discarded me on the streets to die. But I survived, growing up feral and alone.”

You looked up at him sadly, heart aching at the thought of him helpless and abandoned with no one to care for him. You raised a hand to gently stroke his cheek.

Sukuna closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. “I do not tell you this for pity,” he said firmly. “My past made me strong.”

His eyes opened again. “When my cursed technique manifested, I used them without mercy, cutting down any who dared stand in my way. I reveled in my growing strength, the thrill of battle and blood... they satisfied me. I honed my skills until I became unmatched.”

You nodded solemnly. His description matched the legends told of the terrifying Ryomen Sukuna.

Now you know why he lacked mercy.

You take his hands in yours, kissing his palms. “The past is behind you now,” you told him. “What matters is who you choose to be from this day forth. My love for you is unconditional.” You smiled up at him warmly. “But I promise to teach you the ways of empathy and love, even if you protest.”

Sukuna huffed in amusement, the corners of his mouth quirking up. “Little one, you may try, but do not expect miracles. I am what I am.” But his embrace around you was gentle, belying his words.

You poked his chest teasingly. “I will make it my mission to show you how wonderful love can be, the joys it brings to our lives.” Laughing, you added, “Just you wait, I will have you reciting poetry and picking wildflowers before long!”

“Hmph, do not get carried away,” he grumbled, but you could tell he was secretly pleased by your playful vow.

You cuddled against his chest, determined to shower this damaged soul with all the love and tenderness he had missed in his tragic early years.

The next morning, as soft sunlight filtered into the bedroom, you lay wrapped in Sukuna’s strong embrace. Your head rested on his muscular chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. His breathing was slow and even, still asleep.

You traced idle patterns on his bare skin, your fingertips grazing over the tattoos adorning his body. Your mind drifted back to the conversation from the night before when Sukuna had told you a bit of his past.

Abandoned and unloved, forced to survive on his own from infancy. Your heart ached for the small, helpless babe he had been. The thought of him growing up without affection or care weighed heavily on you.

You understood now why love and empathy were so foreign to him. But you were determined to show Sukuna what he had missed, to fill his long existence with the warmth and joy he deserved.

Your short mortal life worried you, however. Sukuna had lived for centuries, he would go on existing long after you passed on. Would he find someone new to love? How would losing you affect him? Immortal beings were not meant to give their hearts to fleeting humans.

You must have tensed in concern, because Sukuna began stirring, his four arms instinctively tightening around you. “What troubles you so early, little one?” his deep voice rasped, still groggy with sleep.

You tilted your head up to peer at him. “I was thinking about what you told me last night, about your past. My heart breaks imagining you alone as a child.”

He regarded you seriously. “It was long ago. Dwelling on what cannot be changed is pointless.”

“I know,” you murmured. “I only wish I could have cared for you then. But now I worry… what will happen when I am gone? My life is so short compared to yours. Will you find someone new to love?” Your voice caught on the last word as you averted your gaze. You weren’t sure you even wanted to hear the answer.

He was silent. When you worked up the courage to look at him again, his crimson eyes were looking at you intensely. With a swift, motion he flipped you beneath him, bracing his weight above you and capturing your face between his big hands.

“You think I could simply replace you when death takes you from me?” His thumb brushed your cheek tenderly. “No other has touched my soul as you have. Long was my existence before you, yet I was empty.” Leaning down, he touched his forehead to yours.

“Your fragile mortality may one day steal you from my side, but what we have cannot be replicated or replaced.” He lifted his head to gaze deeply into your eyes.

“When you are gone, I will be lost again. I accept that your life must end as mine continues.” His jaw clenched. “But I will find no peace with another. What we have is beyond replacement.”

Tears blurred your vision at his heartfelt words. You had not realized the depth of his attachment, that the absence of your love would leave him emotionally desolate.

You threw your arms around his broad shoulders. “Then we must make the most of the time we have,” you declared. “Fill our days with so much joy that you will carry the warmth of our love for eternity.”

Sukuna wrapped you tightly in his embrace. “Yes,” he agreed, nuzzling your neck. “I will cherish every precious moment with you, little one.”

His words made your heart clench, but you understood, he would never love another as he had you. Your lives were tragically misaligned, yet the love you shared transcended such limits.

You spent the day wrapped up in Sukuna, exchanging tender caresses, murmuring sweet nothings, strolling the grounds hand-in-hand. Every shared laugh, every affectionate glance was savored, imprinting your bond ever deeper.

As the sun sets in glorious color, you lay entwined together beneath the cover of a wisteria tree. Your head rested over Sukuna’s heart as he gently stroked your hair. His steady heartbeat and the rhythmic rise of his chest were deeply comforting.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” you whispered.

“As do I, little one,” he replied, his voice tinged with melancholy. “But we cannot halt the merciless passage of time.”

You leaned up to press a soft kiss to his jaw. “No matter how short my life, I am grateful every moment of it is spent with you.”

Sukuna cradled you close, distress evident in his eyes. “When I am alone again, I will find comfort in the memories we have.”

His grip on you tightened, as if he could hold you to this world through will alone. You tilted your head back to peer up at him. “And when I am gone, will you be okay?”

“I will endure it. As I have endured all hardship in my long life.” He traced his thumb lightly down your cheek. “It will not feel the same, my little love. But do not worry about me, I will be fine.”

Your heart clenched at the raw honesty in his normally stoic demeanor. On impulse, you stretched up to press a soft kiss to his lips. Sukuna went still for a heartbeat before responding in kind, lips moving gently against yours.

“Then do not dwell on the inevitable end,” you cup his face in your hands. “Think only of how much we mean to each other now. If my love can sustain you even a little while after I am gone, that will be enough.”

Sukuna pressed his forehead to yours. “I will brace it when the time comes. But for now, my world is only you.”

You kissed him tenderly, then settled against his chest once more. Bittersweet joy swelled your heart, knowing you had brought some warmth into Sukuna’s grim existence. Though fleeting and painfully finite, your mortal love was a balm to his ancient, scarred soul.

The years passed swiftly. Sukuna remained your steadfast companion as you grew from a young woman into old age. He was always there to hold you close, whisper endearments, make you laugh with his wit.

In the blink of an eye, your hair became streaked with silver. Your smooth skin wrinkled and your energy waned. But your love never faded.

Sukuna stayed by your side as you grew frail, cradling you tenderly through restless nights, patiently spoon-feeding you broth when eating became difficult. His eyes reflected centuries of sadness knowing your time grew short.

Finally, you lay weakly upon your futon as he stayed close by your side. Your breathing turned ragged and a violent cough wracked your body. He gathered you gently into his arms.

“The end is near, my little one,” he murmured, smoothing back your thin hair.

You gave him a quivering smile. “I am ready. Just stay with me, please.”

He pressed his lips to your wrinkled forehead. “Always.”

You spent your final moments gazing up at his face, etched into your mind after so many years together. His image would be the last you saw in this life. With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes for the final time.

Sukuna let out a broken noise, pulling you tightly to his chest as your body went limp. Rocking your still form, he wept for the first time in his long existence. Anguished sobs wracked his powerful frame.

He had known this moment would come, yet nothing could have prepared him for the sheer devastation of losing you. It felt as though part of his soul had been ripped away.

Sukuna had guarded your mortal form night and day in those final years. Now you slipped away before his eyes, leaving him utterly alone. The crushing pain made him understand the human concept of a “broken heart”.

But he took comfort knowing you had passed peacefully in his embrace. The only mercy was that you were spared a drawn-out decline. He had filled your short life with as much love as one man could give. He has known you for a short time compared to how you’ve known him for most of your life.

Wiping his eyes, Sukuna pressed final kisses to your cooled skin. He would honor you with a funeral befitting royalty. Then he must decide where to wander next. This place held too many haunting memories now.

Sukuna laid you gently on the futon and stood. He cast one last anguished look at your still face.

“My beloved…” he whispered. “No other shall ever take your place.”

Then he turned and strode from the room, jaw clenched against a fresh onslaught of grief. His steps were heavy with the unbearable burden of immortality and loss.

No, he doesn’t cremate you despite having the ability to do so. He doesn’t even want to think of burning you to ashes, or he might as well lose it and burn the world with it for taking you away too soon.

He buried you beneath the cherry tree where you’d spent so many blissful hours in his arms. He marked the site with a stone monument etched with his promise:

“In this life or the next, you are mine. None will ever love you as I have, little one.”

His task complete, Sukuna wandered for many years after. Though the sharp pain dulled to a persistent ache, the emptiness inside him never abated. He fulfilled his promise and took no other lovers, knowing they could only ever be hollow substitutes.

He will wait until his time comes no matter how long it takes to see you again in the afterlife.

He will wait long enough to see you reborn and claim you one more as his.

But the thing he knows for sure, you will always belong to no one but him.

I got emotional and carried away, I’m sorry 😭😭

1K notes · View notes

mellowsaturns · 11 months

Text

in losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time)

BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER

summary: when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.

warnings: heavy angst, one sided enemies-to-lovers-ish, hydra!assassin!reader, hurt/comfort, happy ending, brainwashing, trauma, guns & knives, fighting, implied kidnapping of reader when young, all the feels, misunderstandings, poor attempt at writing action

wc: 4.7k

a/n: sorry it’s been forever but i hope my fellow buckyluvrs are still here <3 i actually wrote this a long time ago but never got around to editing until recently so i guess you can say this is (from the vault) ? inspired by the idea: what-if there was another winter soldier and bucky finds himself in steve’s position this time trying to get you back to him. anyways, i hope you enjoy this one :)

Bucky’s life was a never ending montage of gunfire and bloodshed. It didn’t matter if he was under the clutches of someone else, he still lived through the wars—the lingering smell of smoke and tang of metallic forever ingrained in his senses.

And just when he thought it was finally over—a glimmer of peace at last—it comes and steals that dream away from him.

Like deja-vu, he’s looking at faces that were once responsible for his pain.

On the screen, three Hydra officers stare back at him. All faces identified by Tony’s system. Alive. Last seen in the outskirts of some small country in Europe. Irrelevant low ranking officials that had managed to survive the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and have been hiding and secretly continuing Hydra’s mission underground ever since. Low officials or not, it was one too many.

Bucky freezes in his spot when Tony swipes the screen. The billionaire goes on a rant saying this particular face cannot be identified, which was according to Tony, bullshit because his face recognition system is the best in the world. The rest of the team is arguing and flipping through countless files and internet archives. But Bucky knows. He knows that face and those haunting eyes that he still sees in his dreams.

“Buck,” a voice calls out. “You know her, don’t you?”

He looks up at Steve from his spot, his best friend's face worried and all knowing.

One thing about Hydra was that they were always prepared. They had backups and multiple plans ready, or else how would two heads take its place when one was cut off? Unfortunately for the world, Hydra managed to make another deadly assassin, one whose work was so discreet and nimble that even intelligence didn't know they existed.

You were a ghost story that lived in the shadows of the Winter Soldier. You were another one of Hydra’s prize possessions—less known, but just as deadly.

With Steve’s comment, all eyes are now on Bucky. A pregnant pause fills the air and he gulps before he confesses, “I wasn’t the only one.”

The room becomes tense. The war that they thought was over suddenly looms over like an unpredicted oncoming storm. “Jesus Christ, Barnes. You couldn’t have informed us about her earlier?” says Tony.

“I thought,” he says, shifting his eyes onto the ground, “I thought she fell with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Bucky couldn’t find you anywhere after he escaped their grasp. After he joined the Avengers, he tried once again secretly using Tony’s technology but it was to no avail—it always ended up being a dead end. And for that, he assumed Hydra had put you out of your misery the day they were caught.

But the face on the screen says otherwise. And suddenly, Bucky feels very guilty.

Steve clears his throat, “Well, they were picked up not too long ago heading north. If we leave now, we might be able to find them and stop them once and for all.”

Everyone looks at each other, debating on his proposal. “What the Captain said. Everybody, suit up. Quinjet leaves in ten,” says Tony.

On the jet, Bucky stares off into space but countless questions run through his mind.

Steve walks over and sits beside him. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, voice quiet.

Bucky sighs, “I just… I thought she was gone.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”

He looks up, wondering if he should tell Steve the truth. That he’s not brooding about the fact that he concealed you to them. After a moment, Bucky speaks up. “When we get there, let me handle her. Please.”

Steve didn’t know what kind of history Bucky had with you. But judging from the look his best-friend is giving, it’s more than what Steve could understand or even comprehend but he trusts Bucky and so, he gives him a nod. “She’s all yours.”

After scouting the area and tracing the location to a very hidden underground warehouse in the middle of nowhere, they split up. The warehouse was dark and dusty, surely abandoned, but Bucky knew better—it was their facade behind the most sinister of activities. Through the comms, Natasha announces that she has already taken care of all the troops in the West wing. Moments later, Sam reports that he has eliminated one of the Hydra officers. They wouldn’t last long. Hydra didn’t have much resources or time to rebuild—their current empire was weak, they were no match for the Avengers this time.

The only person Bucky’s truly worried about is you. The fact that he trained you, made you into what you were today already gave him the chills. He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore, but he was certain that you were still in that killer mindset that Hydra forced upon you.

Step by step, Bucky walks through the quiet hallway, the echoes of his footsteps the only noise. It’s cold here, he notices, which gives him flashbacks to those days in his dirty cell and the cryostasis chamber. Down a hallway to the next, round a corner and another, there wasn’t a single soul in the eerily Eastern wing.

But he spoke too soon, because seconds later, a garrote wire was around his neck. The swift invisible steps and the perfect pressure that was being used to quickly cut off his air supply was all too familiar. He knows this move, he taught this move. You’re here, and you’re dragging him backwards.

Before all oxygen gets cut off to his brain, he jabs his elbow backwards and hits you hard on the rib which releases the hold you have on him and sends you stumbling back. Bucky takes a moment to regain his breath but you’re on your feet again. He looks at you and for a moment he freezes, then you let out a sinister grin. “Nice to see you again, Soldat,” you taunt, before running towards him.

Bucky’s deflecting your punches one after another. Maybe he’s glad he was the one who taught you everything you know because your moves were predictable—if it were another person, there is no doubt they would’ve been on the ground with multiple concussions bleeding out already. You’re ruthless when you do a triple roundhouse kick on him. On the fourth one, he manages to catch your leg and twists it, sending you to the ground with a groan.

How familiar this scene was, Bucky thinks.

Some forty-years ago, Hydra brought a woman into the training room. There was no further instruction than to train you and that’s what he did. He could tell you were well trained already—compliant and pliable. You were good. And you were just like him, injected with a serum that made you a hundred times more efficient and stronger. In just under a year, Hydra would start sending you on missions. Sometimes with him, sometimes alone.

During training, the both of you would spar for hours, leaving each other bloody and bruised, but it didn’t matter to the overlookers, the both of you would heal in a few hours anyways.

Once you pick yourself back up, he pulls a gun out on you. “Stop this,” he commands.

You smirk, “You going to shoot me, Soldat? I want to see you try.”

He clenches his jaw. You continue to look at him, a dark look on your face that shows no sign of true recognition.

His thoughts are disrupted when you tackle him onto the ground. You kick his gun away and pin his arms down as you straddle him. “I’m going to kill you,” you declare, “I’m going to put a bullet through your head.”

When he looks up at you, your eyes are full of rage. Bucky doesn’t know whether that’s the brainwashed version of you talking or the actual you talking—maybe both.

“What are you going to do after you kill me?” he says, irritated. C’mon, please recognize me. “This is all that remains of Hydra. Half the troops are already dead. One of your new leaders is dead. In a few hours, Hydra will be no more. What will you do after that? What are you going to do after you kill me?”

“What does it matter? You’re my mission. I’m going to finish it.”

He groans at your stubbornness that was identical to his Soldier persona.

He says your name slowly. “Get off. You can walk away from this.”

You frown, but he continues, “I know how you feel. You’re feeling helpless.” He clears his throat, “There’s someone behind this version of you. I want to talk to her.”

“What are you talking about?” you utter in annoyance. “Stop stalling.”

He says that name again, with calamity and care. You want to rip out his tongue.

“Let me talk to her. Please.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” you shout, grabbing for the gun that’s strapped onto your waist. “Stop talkin–”

“I was in the cell next to yours. You liked the colour green. You were wearing white when we first met. You always wanted to visit Bucharest. You hated the leaky cold showers in the Siberian facility,” he rambles, trying to remember every single thing about you in a desperate attempt to get your attention so this version of you won’t shoot him in the face.

And for a moment, it works because your hand freezes on the grip of your gun. He takes that moment to flip you over, so you’re under him now, hands pinned above your head. He takes your gun and throws it behind him.

You snarl at him while trying to escape his grasp. “I know you’re under there,” he says. “Please, come through. Please talk to me.”

Your face scrunches in pain, not from him—he would never hurt you—but from the mental warfare that’s currently going on in your mind. You close your eyes as he speaks again. “Listen to my voice, you know me, don’t you? мой милая.”

My darling.

For a moment, your entire body tenses up and then you let out a painful breath. When your eyelids start to flutter open, he finally sees the eyes he came to know and rely on—eyes he came to love.

The both of you are looking at each other unblinking. A scene neither of you expected but always dreamt about.

You break the silence with a whisper of, “James?”

Bucky slowly nods at your disbelief. Finally, he thinks. But such respite doesn’t last long, because seconds later, you hook your foot under his and flip him over and escape his grasp.

There's darkness in your eyes and he can tell that the Soldate is back and the fighting resumes.

You’re chasing him down the twisting hallway and when you catch up, you grab his shoulder and throw a punch to his jaw. He stumbles back and then a voice comes through the comms.

“Just took down the second one.” Steve. “Bucky, how are you holding up? You’ve been quiet ever since we split up.”

He’s trying his best to block your hand, which now has a damn pocket knife. Your quick movements are starting to tire him out. Maybe he taught you too well, he thinks.

“Buck? Bucky. Confirm your status, right now.”

Groaning in frustration, he taps his earpiece. “I’m fine,” he grunts. A second later, “Shit!” he huffs out as you nearly slice his face.

“You don’t sound fine. Is she with you? I’m sending back up.”

“No!” he says, “Don’t send anyone. I can handle her.”

In truth, he’s struggling right now—your stamina has always been better than his—but he’s worried that you’re going to accidentally get hurt and even more agitated when people appear. His main priority was keeping you safe. Fuck the mission statement they talked about back on the Quinjet.

You’re angry—no, you’re extremely angry at him. It doesn’t take a genius to tell. It’s a mixture of pure rage from both the brainwashed and actual you.

He supposed he deserved it. You should be angry. Because for the longest time, it was you and him.

Other than turning you into a ruthless assassin just like him, an unexpected companionship also formed during those hazy in-between moments when the two of you weren’t frozen or on the metal chair getting fried by those machines—during the times when he was just Bucky and you were just you, two unfortunate innocent souls that shared the same suffering.

They weren’t pleasant moments. It was dehumanising. It was getting shoved into draughty cells with nothing but a blanket until it was time to train or time to embark on a mission. Luckily, your cells were next to each other and it made the endless nights a little more bearable. He was a little off-putting at first, but when he yelled at you to stop crying because they would torture you even more for it, you knew he meant well.

During your shared time together, glimpses of your true selves would seldom come up and you would tell each other about the little bits and pieces of a life once known. And the both of you would hold onto each other's memories and stories in case the other forgets.

And whenever they prep the two of you for the chamber due to there being no current missions for the time being, the two of you would look at each other—a look of longing with the secret squeezing of each other's hand before going under.

Despite the absolute awful situation the two of you were in at the time, the both of you were hopeful for the next shared moments together. Because even when all hope was gone, you had each other. And that was good enough for the two of you.

He misses you. So damn much.

“Shut up,” you mutter.

He didn’t even realise he said it outloud. “Well, I do,” he admits, his back hitting a wall.

“You talk too much, Soldat,” you say, creeping up on him. “I ought to cut your throat.”

“I’m sorry I left you with them.”

You halt in your steps and your jaw ticks. In a second, you pounce on him, your knife against his throat. He’s gripping your hand to stop you from continuing your job.

He says your name again. You’re pushing but he’s pushing back just as hard. “I’m sorry…” he repeats, “I’m so sorry.”

The desperation in his voice… You glance up at him slowly and he sees the pink forming in your eyes and your trembling lips. “What are you doing? What are you doing to me?” you whisper.

He sees the internal war behind your eyes once again. Bucky gulps for a moment before letting go of your hand, trusting that you won’t do any actual harm, and moves his hands so he’s cupping your face, firm enough so you’re forced to look at him. You look into his eyes for a second, then a minute, and for a moment, everything stops. Your breath hitches, because those eyes… those arctic blues… you know them. You fell in love with them many years ago.

A realisation washes over your face, one that Bucky doesn’t miss. You’re back.

The first tear falls. Then the second. “Bucky.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers.

You let out a small cry before you press the blade harder against his neck, your grip a vice from his betrayal. He could feel the sharp cold metal pierce through his skin ever so slightly, but he doesn’t try and stop you.

“Give me a reason to not kill you right now,” you grit through tears. “You left me. You left me behind to rot alone. You promised me. You fucking promised,” you say, voice laced with venom and so much hurt.

Bucky’s heart breaks at the sadness of your voice. Because he did promise. There wasn’t much to do in the cells other than throw around false hope. But whenever he told you he was going to escape one day and that he was going to take you with him—it didn’t feel like false promises at all because it wasn’t, and you knew it too.

Until he broke that promise and left you all alone.

“I didn’t mean to,” he says, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to leave you there with them.”

“I waited for you,” you cry. “Day and night I waited for you to come back. Even when they relocated, I waited for you because I knew you’d find me.”

You remember that day clearly. Everyone was in a frenzy when the death of Alexander Pierce broke out and that they could not locate the Soldat. For a moment, you could taste your own freedom because government officials would come anytime now and finally arrest all these criminals. But right when they came, a few Hydra officers managed to escape and took you with them, and when you woke up, you didn’t know where the hell you were. But even then you didn’t lose hope because James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, the name you committed to memory, was going to come for you just like he promised.

Until days, months, and eventually, a year came with no sign of him.

You were angry at first, but it slowly turned into worry because what if something bad had happened to him? But what do you know? You were stuck in this building and only went out whenever they spoke those trigger words to you. And you were always under their watchful eyes, giving you no chance to even attempt an escape. Surely he would never break his promise to you so something must’ve happened to him, you told yourself multiple times.

But he was standing here right in front of you. Alive. We’re under attack, your handler said to you moments ago, Kill the Soldat before he kills you.

“You’re a liar. You never cared about me,” you hiss.

Sometimes, it got too much. But whenever reality was a bit too hard to endure, Bucky was there, always reaching his hand out to you through the metal cage, which you took and held tight. And it meant the world to you, that someone cared.

“All those moments, did it even mean anything to you?”

He uses this opportunity to pull your arms down slightly, knife finally away from his neck and his eyes start to sting from his own tears. “They meant everything to me. I care about you.”

You look up at him with a defeated expression and Bucky never wanted to punch himself in the face more. “Then why? Why didn’t you come back for me?”

“I did,” he chokes out. “When I escaped, the first thing I did was go back for you, but the facility had already been raided and there was no one there. I checked every inch of the building.”

Bucky had never felt so scared, because what if the government took you too? They would never understand—framing you as a villain even though that was far from the truth. But there was no news of your capture, so with a breath of relief, Bucky continued to look through other known Hydra facilities.

“I tried my best looking for you, but I also had to be careful because I was a wanted man at the time. When months passed by and there were no clues, I thought that maybe you had escaped. I was in Bucharest waiting for you. Remember how you said you always wanted to go there? I knew that if you escaped, you’d find me there. Even when you didn’t show, I never gave up. Steve… I think I told you about him once—he found me, he helped me and cleared my name. After that, I still searched for you but it all ended up being dead ends. And…” he pauses for a moment, “and so I thought you were dead. I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry.”

He had mourned you and blamed himself endlessly for it.

He knows he should’ve asked for help, but instead, he took this task upon himself until it got too much—because that was the one thing he struggled with the most, asking for help.

When his side of the story finally comes to light, you break into a sob. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, “but please, drop the weapon and let me help you.”

You swallow hard at his confession. He never stopped looking for you. You didn’t even consider how hard it must’ve been for him after everything and yet you’re lashing out on him.

“How are you going to help me?” you say. “I’m a mess. All you have to do is say those words and I turn into a weapon.”

Twelve. Ember. Fragment. Nine. Academy. Order. Frigid. Yearning. Blue.

Those were your trigger words.

“I got you out of your trance, didn’t I?” he says with a gentle smile.

Hydra needed you to rebuild their empire and they relied on those nine words to do so. To them, those nine words were your greatest weakness but one of them, the last one, the one they liked to spit out in vexation, was also your greatest strength—your salvation.

Blue.

You think back, moments prior, when all he had to do was use his voice and all you had to do was look into the blues of his eyes. Hydra can repeat those words all they want, but Bucky would always be able to bring you back.

At that, your grip relaxes and the knife finally drops onto the floor, it’s noise ricocheting off the walls.

“There’s a place called Wakanda and I know someone there who can help you. Her name’s Ayo and she’s amazing. She helped me overcome my words.”

He brings his hands back up to cradle your face and you shutter at the familiar touch—at the calluses on his palms. “And I think you’ll like it there. It’s quiet and there’s so much… green.”

You let out a small laugh through your tears but doubt still fills your mind. “But… all the things I did,” you whimper, “I did such terrible unforgivable things. There’s… there’s so much blood on my hands.”

Sadness flares around his heart. It was all so familiar. He knows the feeling.

“It’s not going to be easy. God knows how long it took for me to believe that none of it was my fault. But let me be the first one to tell you,” he says, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “None of what you did was your fault. You were a victim.” He swallows a deep breath, “There are going to be days where it’ll be too much too bear and there are going to be nights where all those casualties will haunt you,” he admits. “But… but you’ll get there. Someday, you’ll learn to stop punishing yourself for something you didn’t do.”

And he vows that he’ll help you every step of the way.

You breathe out slowly, digesting all his words. “You can trust me,” he tells you, “I won’t let you down this time. I’ll be here.”

Blinking up at him, the small hesitant part of you so desperately wanted to say, “How can I trust you?” but his eyes were telling you everything you needed to know. Because it was filled with nothing but honour and truth.

He breaks away from you and reaches out his hand. An invitation. You stare at it for a while, then you slowly lift yours and brush your fingers amongst his before grabbing it tightly—a truce of sorts, a promise. He squeezes back in return, a loving smile on his face, just like all those nights many moonlights ago.

Your breath hitches when he pulls you into his embrace, your face burying perfectly into the valley of his chest. He wraps his arms around you in urgency, in fear, almost afraid you’ll slip out if he doesn’t.

“It’s over,” he mumbles into your hair.

Because two floors down an explosion erupts, finishing off the last remaining garrison of troops. Three hallways down, Natasha sets fire to a room that contained the other small red leather book that held those nine suffocating words written in Russian. Outside, the last Hydra officer attempting to flee falls to his knees from an arrow to the chest. And the only hope they had left to rebuild their regime was safely in Bucky’s arms.

He pulls away and uses his thumb to rub gently across your cheek, “It’s over. The war is finally over.”

Now that the worst is over, Bucky’s hopeful. There will be other conflicts to come, that was just how it worked, but this one, the one that held you and him underwater for years was finally over. War always took too much, but this time, it gave something back. Because among the ashes and ruins you came back to him, no more oceans in between.

“What do we do now?” you press nervously. You were taken at a young age and spent years in the Red Room before you were sold off to Hydra. Like Bucky, you’re in the wrong time period, there’s no one to go back to.

There’s so many things you could do, Bucky thinks. You can finally start living the life you deserved, the life that was taken from you too early. He’ll have to explain all this to his teammates but he knows they’ll understand. They treated him so well, there’s no doubt they’ll show the same kindness for you. Then, he’ll go with you to Wakanda, get rid of the words, maybe stay there for a while so you could heal—maybe show you the goats he took care of during his time there.

You’ll probably adjust to the 21st century better than him—you won’t need to start off with a flip phone, that’s for sure. He’ll make you listen to all the great records and watch all the movies you missed out on. There’s so many things he wanted to do with you. He knows you have no memories, no recollection. It didn’t matter, Bucky thinks, he would make new memories with you, ones worth cherishing and remembering. If you’ll have him, of course.

But first and most importantly, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Then we can talk about it,” he says, rubbing the grime off your nose.

He grabs your hand and heads for the exit. But before he does, you pick up your knife from the floor and in one quick motion, you spin around and throw it. The knife embeds itself into the wall a few metres away, right next to a prying face. You stand in front of Bucky and stare at the intruder with a murderous gaze and Bucky’s heart races at the thought of you still wanting to protect him after everything.

The blond raises his arms up in surrender.

“Steve,” Bucky says from behind and you briefly recognize that name. You turn around to look at him and he meets your eyes, nodding. You relax your stance.

“Hi,” Steve says, voice slightly hoarse. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

Bucky scoffs at him, as if he wasn’t eavesdropping the whole time.

Steve looks at the both of you, then a gentle smile adorns his face. “C’mon, the rest are waiting outside for you both.”

You step forward. This is it. Freedom. A new life. Bucky notices your hesitation as you suddenly stop in your tracks. Intertwining his fingers with yours, he squeezes with reassurance. You take a deep breath, then the two of you follow Steve to the exit, leaving behind the smoke and memories of your old life.

Outside, the sun comes up slowly but surely on the horizon, painting the awakening sky a gentle warm hue of oranges and pinks.

A new beginning awaits.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky #bucky barnes

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dancingbirdie · 4 months

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For your smut ideas- astarion leaving bite marks on your thighs👀 pretty vampy elf being all possessive👀

Hi, anon! I loved this request, but I have to warn you: I took it to a bit of a darker place than I usually go. Pay attention to the tags, y'all. I hope you enjoy!

Like my smut writing? Find more here.

Your Feral Love

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings/Tags: Biting, descriptions of blood, possessive/obsessive Astarion, marking/claiming behavior, oral sex (fem!Reader receiving)

Summary: Astarion has an intense desire to claim you. This time, it's in places the others won't be able to see.

*****

“Maybe we need to take things slower,” you murmured in Astarion’s ear. You swallowed thickly as he dragged his fangs across the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Whyever would we do that?” he whispered huskily, undeterred from continuing his sensual assault. You shivered as you felt his tongue slide up the column of your throat, unable to stop the little moan that escaped your lips.

“Some in our party are worried… about all the bite marks…” you managed to explain, despite the tantalizing option to just lose yourself in Astarion’s embrace. His cool touch was a balm to the inferno he was stoking within you. The creator of your lust; the only cure for it.

But his lips withdrew from your neck at your response. Pulling back, he met your gaze with furrowed brows and a glare that could make even Lae’zel balk.

“Who.” he demanded, his voice strained with barely-repressed anger. “Who had the audacity to murmur about us?”

His fingers spasmed where they clutched your waist. As if he were bracing for the moment when someone would come and yank you away from him.

He was possessive, your lover. Astarion hadn’t had anything to call his own for over two centuries. Not a thing. Not a soul. Now, after having lowered his guards and allowed you in, his possessive streak was as long and wide as the River Chianthar. He was never far from your side, even in battle. And on the rare occasions he was separated from you, you could feel the heat of his gaze tracking your every movement. Watching you. Making sure his one claim in this world was safe. Accounted for.

The bite marks were a consequence of having not only a possessive lover but a vampiric one as well. You didn’t mind, of course. He always asked for your consent.

Can I bite you here?

Your blood is singing to me, darling. Can I taste you here?

What about here? Would you let me sate myself here?

You flourished under the intensity of his love for you. The bite marks were a reminder of that, and so you cherished each one. Each was a memory of the way Astarion had taken, given and enjoyed you. Heat would sometimes color your cheeks and neck later on, when you caught sight of a pair of healing puncture marks, recalling just how they had come to be there, on that particular part of your body.

But others in your party didn’t share your view of these markings. They, namely Wyll and Gale, were worried Astarion had started taking too much of your lifeblood too quickly. You could understand their concern, to some extent. They didn’t know, didn’t have reason to know, how little of your blood he actually took each night. Most times he would drink barely a mouthful before stopping. The urge to claim you in other ways would overtake his bloodlust, and you would climax again and again as he fucked you into oblivion. He kept his fangs punctured in your skin during times like these, claiming that your blood felt sweeter against them as you found your own release. Only when he had spilled himself in you would he remove them, and by then you were too lovestruck to care how long the markings would remain.

“Tell me, darling.”

Astarion’s voice brought you back to the present moment. You shook your head to dispel the thoughts distracting you.

“...Mostly, Wyll. And Gale, to a lesser extent. I don’t know for certain about the others, although I certainly don’t think anyone comes to our defense…” you trailed off, swallowing thickly.

You caught how Astarion clenched his jaw at your words. He was livid, that much was obvious. You also surmised his anxiety was likely surging within him, the paranoia suggesting that someone or something would cause you to be taken from him. Again, his fingers spasmed against your waist.

“...So maybe we should… I don’t know, keep a lower profile about all this? If they say something to you directly, I know I’ll not be able to stop myself from fighting with them,” you explained, clutching his cheek desperately.

“Tsk. Of course the ones who would have a problem with us would be the only other two who’ve been sniffing after you,” Astarion scoffed.

“What the hells are you talking about?” you asked, clearly confused.

“Oh, darling. Surely you’ve seen the way they look at you? How they talk to you? I certainly have,” he huffed.

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t pay them attention, Astarion,” you reassured him, nuzzling your nose against the curve of his jaw. “I only have eyes for you.”

“And I, you,” he murmured, pressing his lips lovingly against your forehead.

You hummed in delight at his affirmation. While you might not show it through bite marks like him, your possessiveness of Astarion was a fearsome thing, too. The emotion sometimes staggered you, even in the most mundane of moments, like when he donned his armor for the day, or when he cleaned his daggers in the firelight. He was yours. You were his. Anyone else was tertiary.

The two of you remained in comfortable silence for some time, limbs intertwined as you lay halfway on top of him, your head resting against his chest. There was no beating heart within to listen to, but it hardly mattered. You knew that what was there, beating or not, belonged to you and only you. Astarion had said as much, amid previous bouts of lovemaking you had shared in this tent.

Your musings broke at the feeling and sound of his throaty chuckle beneath you. You lifted your head to meet his gaze, surprised.

“What is it?” you pressed.

“I have an idea,” he smirked.

“I usually like your ideas,” you quipped, heat flaring in your lower abdomen at the suggestive look in his eyes.

“Then you’ll surely enjoy this,” he crooned, before flipping you both over all at once so that you were flat on your back, breathless beneath him. He fit perfectly between the cradle of your thighs, your legs parting almost instinctively to accommodate his presence. With one arm, he propped himself up above you, while his other hand clutched your leg to bare you open wider. The position alone had you growing wetter by the second, anticipation for what was to come driving your thoughts wild.

“Much as I detest pandering to their concerns, I think we both know I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from fighting with them either, were they to say something directly to us,” Astarion admitted.

“But,” he continued as his nose skimmed the length of your abdomen, heading further and further south. “I also can’t deny how much pleasure it gives me to mark you as I do… to see the evidence of where my fangs have punctured your lovely skin. Mine. No one else’s.”

You bit your lip in a futile effort to stifle your moan as he began brushing the lightest of kisses against your inner thighs. He slid down lower, his face mere inches from your naked form. This close, you were certain he could smell your arousal. And no doubt find evidence of it as well.

“So what is your idea?” you managed in a breathy whisper as your hips canted toward him, seemingly of their own volition.

“How about I mark you here,” he cooed, his fangs sliding along a particularly visible vein that spanned the length of your leg, beginning at your groin. “Where only I can see. A place they can only dream of. A place only I have been.”

You groaned, skin tingling, nearly electric, in every place his mouth touched. You reached down to card a hand through his carelessly flawless locks, tugging ever so gently on the curls. Astarion growled in response, sending a surge of heat through your lower abdomen.

You were teasing a livewire at the moment, and you knew it. Just a little push, and you would ignite something truly mind blowing. You chose your next words carefully, readying yourself for the delicious consequences that would no doubt ensue.

“I’m yours, Astarion,” you whispered, spreading your legs even further for him and clutching his face desperately. “You can lay claim to me however you wish.”

Another growl ripped from his throat at your words and, in a blink, your lower body was pinned to the ground. His arms banded under and around your thighs to hold you in place, not that you had any desire to move. You whimpered as Astarion nipped and sucked his way across the expanse of skin, his nose grazing your soaked cunt from time to time, causing you to jerk with want.

“Please,” you begged, desperate to have his mouth on your swollen, throbbing clit. He was so close to where you wanted – no, needed – him to be and yet still so far.

“Oh no, not yet, darling,” he purred against the plush skin of your thigh. “I’m going to mark you until I’m satisfied first. Then I’ll give you what you crave, I promise.”

You whined, a pathetic little sound, but nodded your assent anyway. Any touch from him was better than nothing, even if it did cause your cunt to ache with a nearly unbearable need.

Then a sudden spike of iciness on your inner thigh had you gasping in surprise, morphing into a long, low moan as you realized Astarion had actually bitten you there. You could feel him sucking your lifeblood into his mouth, your sense of touch being so heightened in your aroused state.

You lifted your head to watch him move from one place to another as he marked and sated himself. You cradled the side of his head lovingly as he fed from you, swiping your thumb rhythmically across his temple. You were utterly entranced, lost in the delicious feeling of him claiming you, as well as the way he beheld you as he sunk his fangs in again and again across your skin.

He looked at you with the fervor of a madman. He clutched at your legs like some covetous creature. Drunk on the need to possess, to claim, to mark. It was dark, powerful, and heady. And you absolutely reveled in it, ravenous with want as you witnessed how his love for you manifested in such an incendiary way.

With a moan of his own, he finally broke from his feasting. Lifting his head to meet your gaze, your cunt clenched at his expression, at his his bloody mouth, grinning widely with purely male satisfaction.

“It should be a crime, you know,” he rasped, his chest heaving with uneven breaths. “How delicious you taste.”

You whined at his words, desperate to have him taste you in another way.

“Shh, shh. I know, I know,” he crooned, squeezing your legs reassuringly. “I know how you want to be tasted now, darling. Don’t fret.”

Your back arched off the ground as, without another word, Astarion dipped his head to plunge his tongue inside your dripping core. Your mind short circuited as you felt his nose press against your clit with intent as his tongue continued to spear into you. It was almost too much to bear; your nerves already were nearly raw with desire.

You couldn’t help the wail that burst from your lips as you felt his tongue lick up, up, up, until he was circling your clit with long, languid strokes. You fisted a blanket and bit down on the fabric, the last shred of your self-awareness working like mad to muffle your sounds.

You knew Astarion was too far gone to care if anyone heard you both, as evidenced by the obscene slurping and smacking sounds that emanated from his lips. That alone had you ratcheting up faster toward climax, relishing the way it felt and sounded to have Astarion feasting on you with such utter abandon.

A few more moments of floating in that delicious limbo and then you were crashing back down from the height of your orgasm. It felt like an almost spiritual experience, though no cleric could ever convince you that a god’s love would feel as good as this, as good as Astarion’s love for you.

Panting and shivering in the aftershock of your release, you clutched at him desperately, eager to embrace him with as much strength your jellied limbs could muster. He crawled up to lay haphazardly on top of you, head resting in the space between your breasts. You combed your fingers through his hair lovingly, content to remain in companionable silence.

“I’m realizing now that I may have in fact gotten a little out of hand…” he murmured against your sternum after a while.

“Perhaps,” you chuckled. “But I’ll take your feral love over anything else, my star.”

#dancingbirdiewrites #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #bg3 astarion fic #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x f!reader #bg3 smut

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itaipava · 5 months

Text

— little things about a relationship with f1 boys.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

playfully pushing each other’s buttons simply because you can. feigning forgetting important days to surprise you later. falling asleep together to the sound of the rain. sports, video games, boardgames because a couple that plays together, stays together. laughing so hard you can’t breathe. unpredictable hugs. encouraging each others’ hobbies and interests. inside jokes. lots of it. so many couple selfies. wearing his hoodies and shirts. going on double dates. constantly doing movie marathons. saying “love you” at the end of every phone call.

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO

lunch dates. living your best life together. laughing and singing freely. sweet little texts throughout the day to check in on you. “how was your day?” subconsciously pulling you closer in his sleep. lovingly looking at each other just because. sharing umbrella in the rain/sun. taking photos for each other. “goodbye” and “hello” kisses. road trips - sometimes spontaneous and sometimes carefully planned for weeks prior. running hands through each other’s hair. cooking and doing the dishes together afterwards. little foot massages. never forgetting to say “thank you” for the little things.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

him looking at you when you’re not looking and the soft, comfortable eye contact when you catch him looking and neither looking away as you giddily smile at each other. him saving extra treats like chocolate or candy for you and slipping them in your pocket as a little surprise. him subconsciously sniffing your hair or neck before hugging you even tighter. tracing your features with his fingertips during afternoon cuddles by the window because he finds you so beautiful. always looking at each other first when you find something funny. conversations at midnight, at 3 a.m, at early in the morning, evening, afternoon. it’s falling a little more in love with each inner thought and idea shared. flirty and cheesy words exchanged just because. smiling and laughing till your faces and stomachs hurt.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

stolen gazes in public that become stolen smiles then stolen kisses in the dark. even when surrounded by other people, his eyes always find you and yours him. loving each other’s company so much that you lose track of time; sitting at a corner table in a quaint little café — that later becomes your spot — talking about your ideas and thoughts and dreams for hours and hours until the waiter interrupts, asking you to order again or to leave. him instinctively putting his hand on your knee or on your waist when someone tries to flirt with you. surprise back hugs and soft kisses on the shoulder. innocent neck kisses in an attempt to tickle the other.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

already acting like a married couple as well as best-friends. saying “honey, i’m home.” breakfast in bed. taking long walks together. watching tv while cuddling. soft laughter. him doing your manicures. soaking in the warm tub together. little glances at each other when in public, in your own little world. slow kisses. slow dances. fancy and traditional dinner dates. “we’re in this together.” taking things slow. giving each other fashion advice. going shopping together. trying on clothes and posing for each other. late night phone calls. wanting to be around each other so much that you make up excuses to have more time together before the date or the hang-out ends. him adoringly looking at you when you’re not looking. matching jewelry

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

being each other’s home and safe haven. casual pda; the hand-holding; having his arm slung over your shoulder; clinging onto his side while walking. leaning closer to each other to whisper inside jokes in public. secrets exchanged at 3 a.m under the covers, facing each other, fingers absentmindedly trailing on one another’s skin. knowing what the other is trying to say with just a look. looking at each other in public, not touching but feeling close. him adoringly watching you from the bed while you do your skincare in front of the vanity table; locking gazes in the mirror, playful smirks forming on your faces. innocent neck kisses. taking plenty of couple selfies/mirror selfies together. unintentionally matching outfits and laughing about it.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

it’s acting like an old married couple. enjoying doing the mundane things together. making bad jokes then staring at each other and your faces breaking out in grins and soft laughter. saying one thing but meaning the complete opposite: it’s ‘i hate you’s with loving smiles. accepting each other’s flaws and falling even more in love for them. him giving you his hoodie so that you can wear it when you’re cold or use it as a makeshift blanket. him poking your sides at the most random moments and giving you a mischievous, teasing half-smile when you tell him to stop. facetime calls at night for ‘a few minutes’ that end up lasting for hours with you falling asleep on call and him taking screenshots of it to tease you later but also end up staring at your peaceful, sleeping face with the softest smile.

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emeryleewho · 1 year

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I've noticed that people take writing advice way too literally and then get really mad about it, so here's a quick guide of what the typical "bad' writing advice is actually trying to tell you.

[Note: you don't have to take literally any piece of advice. It's just there for your consideration. If you hate it, leave it and do things the way you want. But the reason all of this advice is regurgitated so often is because it has helped a lot of people, so it's okay if it's not for you, but it may still be life changing for someone else.]

Write Every Day

"Write every day" is NOT supposed to be a prescriptivist, unbreakable rule that dictates anyone who doesn't write literally every day isn't a real writer. It's supposed to be a shorthand way of saying "establish a writing routine. Get used to writing at certain times or in certain places or in certain patterns, both so that you can trick yourself into writing even when you don't feel like it by recreating certain conditions, but also because if you only write "when you're in the mood", you may never get around to finishing a project and you likely won't be able to meet publishing deadlines if you decide to pursue publication."

The point of this advice is basically just to get used to seeing writing as part of your daily routine, something that you do regularly. But if you decide you can't write on Tuesdays or weekdays or any day when you have certain other activities, that's literally fine. Just try to make it a habit if you can.

2. Show Don't Tell

"Show don't tell" DOES NOT AND HAS NEVER meant "never state anything plainly and explicitly in the text". Again, "show don't tell" is a shorthand, and its intended message is "things tend to feel a lot more satisfying when your reader is able to come to that conclusion on their own rather than having the information given to them and being told they just have to accept it." It's about giving your reader the pieces to put the puzzle of your book together on their own rather than handing them a finished puzzle and saying "there. take it."

So if you have a character who's very short-tempered, it's typically more satisfying that you "show" them losing their cool a few times so that the reader can draw the conclusion on their own that this character is short-tempered rather than just saying "He was short-tempered". Oftentimes, readers don't want to take what you tell them at face value, so if you just state these sorts of details, readers will push back against that information. People are significantly more likely to believe literally any information they are able to draw conclusions on without being told what to believe, so that's where this advice comes in.

3. In Medias Res

This one is so often misunderstood. "In medias res" or "start in the middle", DOES NOT MEAN to literally start halfway through your plot. It also DOES NOT MEAN that you should start in the middle of an action packed scene. It just means that when you start your story, it should feel like the world and the characters already existed before we started following them. It shouldn't feel like everything was on pause and the world and characters only started acting the moment the story begins.

This is why starting with a character waking up or something similar can feel jarring and slow. We want to feel instantly compelled by your character, and the most efficient way to do that is [typically] to have them already doing something, but that something can be anything from taking a shower to commuting to school to chopping off a dragon head. We just want to feel like the story is already moving by the time we enter.

4. Shitty First Drafts

The idea that you should let your first draft suck and not revise it as you go is a tip presented to combat the struggle a lot of people have with not being able to finish a draft. If you find you've been working on the same first draft for five years and barely gotten anywhere, you might want to try this advice. The point is to just focus on getting to the ending because finishing a draft can give you renewed energy to work on the book and also makes it easier to get feedback from readers and friends.

That said, if your story is flowing fine even as you go back and make edits, then don't worry about this. This is advice specifically designed to target a problem. Likewise, this doesn't mean that you can't clean up typoes when you see them or even make minor edits if you want to. It just means not to let yourself get completely bogged down by making changes that you never move forward.

A "shitty first draft" also doesn't mean that your story has to be completely illegible. It just means that you shouldn't let perfectionism stop you yet. I see a lot of people say "well, I can't keep going until this first part makes sense", and that's totally reasonable! Again, the point of this advice is just to get you out of that rut that keeps you from making progress, but if you spend a couple weeks editing and then move on or you find the book is still making forward strides while you edit, then you're fine. You don't need this.

5. Adverbs

The idea that you "shouldn't use adverbs" DOES NOT MEAN that any time you use an adverb, you're ruining your story. It just means that you shouldn't *rely* on adverbs to carry your story, namely in places where stronger verbs or nouns would do a lot more heavy lifting.

For instance, you can write "she spoke quietly", but generally speaking, that "quietly" there is a lot weaker than just subbing out this clause for "she whispered". You probably have the word "spoke" all over your draft, so subbing out one instance of it here for a stronger verb in place of the same verb + an adverb makes for stronger prose. This doesn't mean that you'll never want to use the phrase "spoke quietly" over the word "whispered". For instance, if I write, "When she finally spoke, she spoke quietly, like that was all the volume her weakened lungs could muster." In this case, I'm using "spoke quietly" specifically *because* it echoes the previous spoke earlier in the sentence, and it evokes a certain level of emotion to have that repetition there. I also used it because she's not actually "whispering", but trying to speak at full volume only to come off sounding quiet.

So when people tell you to cut adverbs, they're saying this because people often use adverbs as a crutch to avoid having to seek out stronger verbs. If you're using your adverbs intentionally, having considered stronger verbs but ultimately deciding that this adverb is what does the job properly, then there's nothing wrong with using them. This is just a trick to help you spot one common weakness in prose that a lot of authors don't even realize they have.

6. Write What You Know

This is potentially the single worst-underestood piece of writing advice. "Write what you know" DOES NOT MEAN to write only what you know or that you have to put all of your life's knowledge on the page. It just means that drawing from your own experiences and already there knowledge will help you craft a better story.

So, for instance, being an eye doctor doesn't mean you have to write a story about an eye doctor. It doesn't even mean you need to write a story that directly deals with any eye knowledge. It just means that there are likely things you've experience as an eye doctor that can help inspire or inform your story. Maybe you remember a patient who always wore the same yellow shoes, and so you include a character who does exactly that. Maybe you spent a lot of hours dealing with insurance so you decide to write about insurance agents. Maybe your practice was located next to a grocery store so you decide to write a zombie apocalypse story that takes place in a location inspired by that shopping center.

The point is that, as people, our lived experiences allow us to relate to other people and craft more believable worlds. So don't limit yourself to your lived or experience or feel obligated to only write the things you've done, but when you find yourself wondering what to write about next or how to give a character more depth or how to describe this random location, pull things from your life and let what you already know bring a certain level of unique you-ness to your writing.

And the MOST important advice I can give you is to stop looking at writing advice as some holy, unbreakable rules passed down by the gods that you cannot ever deviate from. And if a piece of advice sounds totally bonkers, do some research on it. There's a good chance that whoever's passing it to you has no idea what they're talking about. But even if every other writer swears by a certain piece of advice, you absolutely do not need to take it. Try it on if you want, and throw it away if you don't, but stop making yourselves miserable by letting random internet people dictate your life. Most people giving advice on the internet aren't where you want to be anyway, so don't expect them to be able to guide you somewhere they've never been.

Everything's made up, and nothing matters. Write what you want.

#writing advice #long post #writing #author

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roturo · 8 months

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THIS WOMAN IS MY ONLY ANGEL!

SUMMARY !: Megumi’s blood got blue, why? well because he thought he was losing his only angel coming back home. WARNINGS !: Smut, aged up characters, unprotected sex, creampie & breeding kink, mentions of forming a family, mentions of cheating, biting, tummy bulge, overstimulated, dumbification, a lot of cum, multiple orgasms, squirting, mating press, masturbation, fingering, corruption kink & very nasty stuff.

Megumi was coming home from a mission. Murmuring how much he hated this mission and that maybe he should quit being a sorcerer. He couldn’t bear the annoying behavior of his teammates and thanks to them making the missions even harder. Thanks to them he broke his phone on the mission and couldn’t tell you he’s coming home earlier tonight.

Once he got closer towards the house of both of you, he saw lights turned on in your bedroom, so he assumed you were awake and waiting for him. He opened up the door, taking off his shoes and jacket, but before he could place it on the sofa he heard some sounds— his first instinct was to go running to find you— afraid something or someone was hurting you— but he stopped mid-tracks once he heard a moan. He swears his heart stopped beating and his blood turned cold at the sound.

He waited there, in the hallway towards the bedroom— thinking and begging that the sound was all a creation of his imagination but he heard it again. And it’s like his body moved without his permission that he didn’t realized he walked in front of the door— cursed energy coming out of him, that anyone who got close to him would drown on it and stop breathing of how heavy it felt

Ready to give up his future life with you, thinking about all the things you could’ve done together— have a family, visit different parts of the world, get married…— he was ready to throw it all, and give up on those ideas. He just wanted you to be happy, so if you were happy with someone else, he would leave you. If you wanted him to die, to go and fucking kill himself, he would do it.

And he’s selfish, he knows that. But he never wants to see you with someone else— he told you, but he guesses you never listened.

And he swears you’re making him bleed. Cold and black blood coming out of him. Ready to leave, knowing apologies would never fix this.

He guesses promises are broken like stitches.

He opened the door, and now he feels like an idiot.

An idiot with a boner.

You were sprawled out, wearing one of his shirts, tears streaming down your cheeks— your cute little fingers compared to his trying to find release by yourself. His blood became red and hot again. Going straight to his dick, because he couldn’t believe this sight— he was angry, horny, relieved… he was angry for thinking that low of you, he was horny for watching you pleasure yourself, and he was relieved for everything he thought was just a fear of his that isn’t true.

‘M—Megumi…A-Ah!’ — It’s like when you realized he was right there, watching you pleasure yourself, moaning his name… it got you even wetter. Your cunt glistening and showing how much you missed Megumi’s cock and his fingers. He feels bad, seeing you this needy all because how busy he’s been.

And he’s tempted— there’s this thing upon him who’s howling like a beast to fuck you right there. Loving how he’s the one touching your skin, and knowing you’re a devil in between the sheets and not an angel like most people say.

He corrupted you.

And he loved that.

And there’s nothing you can do about it— ‘What a dirty. needy. whore. Couldn’t wait for your man to come back home and give you the real thing?’ — You watched Megumi as he entered the room, tilting his head to the side, contemplating what to do with you. He started unbuckling his belt and then started climbing to the bed— making you go backwards and try to get away from him but he was faster. He grabbed you by the ankles and positioned you so you're laid down completely under him, while he throws his belt somewhere else in the floor and frees his rock hard dick out of his briefs.

‘Y-you were s’busy this days I couldn’t stop myself. I needed you ‘Gumi…’— You said between mumbles, trying to look everywhere else but his eyes. His dominating aura drowning all your excitement and turning it into getting even wetter and clenching your hole waiting for his next action. — ‘So that’s why you’ve been such a nasty girl? Sending me those pictures? You know i’m yours baby, and I can easily dump the mission just to fuck you everywhere. No need to tease me, just say the words, and i’ll fuck you.’

‘Fuck me Megumi.’ — With no words needed he took off his shirt, one of his hands supporting him while with the other he lines himself so he could thrust into you. ‘F-Fuck… did you got tighter? Tsk. Even after fucking yourself with those poor little fingers? What a cute little thing.’ — His thrusts became harder each time he accustomed to your hole again, groans coming out of him while all you could do was moan out his name. Praying for the neighbors to not come tomorrow and ask for you to stay quiet.

It’s not the first time nor the last one, so fuck it.

‘I-I… Fuck… I still remember when you got me waiting in the dorms hallway to take me to your room and the fuck the soul out of you— A-Ah!… Now look.. at. us. now.’ — Each word came with a harder thrust than the last one, keeping a rough pace while kissing and pushing himself to talk to you. ‘Want me to continue fucking you like some rabbits in heat? Breed you? Oh god…’

He let out a moan that later sounded like a whine after saying those last words to you. ‘Fill you up and get you all rounded with my baby inside of you?… Shit- You’ll look soo… so… good.’

His thrusts became faster this time, putting you into a mating press, while he marked your neck. — Your vision started becoming dizzy, he started hitting all the right spots and once his hand found your clit and started rubbing it you exploded. Forming a white ring between the union of you two. Moans turned into screams and whines of trying to contain yourself from cumming again.

Words not even forming and just small sounds that sounded like hiccups coming out of you. He tried to stop himself from whimpering when he started feeling the tingly stimulation of your hole clenching his cock and electric feeling of almost reaching his high. Making his legs get shaky— he couldn’t keep hitting you because a loud whimper came out of him once he started thrusting even faster.

Your cunt gladly accepts him every time, cum coming out of you with every thrust. Your vision completely full of small black points and feeling your tummy getting a very full and tingly feeling, until finally a scream dressed as a moan came out from you, liquids and cum coming out of you with no warning— Coating Megumi’s cock way too much, it got really slippery and his cock almost slipped your cunt every time he thrusted.

‘Ffuccckk… S'wet. All f’me’ His thrusts became erratic, feeling his cock grow harder trying to find his release— pinning your hands below your head while his other free arm finds your clit and starts rubbing it, feeling another orgasm coming out from you. ‘S-shit, what if we have a baby? uh-huh~ Fucking you everyday, every place just to make sure you’re full of my cum.’ Every time he thrusts inside of you a small bump would form in your tummy, hitting your g-spot perfectly— someway getting even more deep inside you could swear his cock was in your throat.

‘M-me’gumi~ Please…’ He chuckled at your loss of consciousness, something inside of him growing proudly thanks to how good he’s making you feel, he could resist it any more and big your neck while he dumped his cum inside of you.

Sighs filled the room, noticing Megumi came hard because strips of cum wouldn’t stop coming out of him— cum already slipping out of your cunt without releasing himself from you.

‘Shit.’ He looked down where the both of you’re connected and saw the cum coming out of the both of you without even freeing his cock out of you— Which brought a tingly feeling and movement from his cock, like waking up by surprise.

‘Think you can with another round baby?’

#megumi smut #megumi fushiguro smut #fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi imagine #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #megumi x you #jujutsu megumi

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kakujis · 4 months

Text

ALL I WANTED WAS YOU.

and when the world treats you way too fairly... well, it's a shame i'm a dream.

synopsis: a break up is nothing, not when the two of you are sworn to be together. satoru thinks you just need a little reminder.

warnings: dark content. ageless blogs + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, sub!reader, yandere!satoru, switching povs at times, possessive behavior, dubcon, recording, dacryphilia, cheating (not on gojo), somno, praise, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break(?), begging, fingering, oral f!receiving, choking, pussy slapping, creampie, masochism (reader), tiny bit of man handling and hair pulling. he is mean AND whiny. he literally sniffs u at one point lol. you wear makeup. implied multiple rounds.

ft + wc: gojo x reader, around 5.2k

@enchantedforest-network

an: hi, so like months ago (as all my wips start) i had this idea for toxic!ex bf gojo which delved into yan gojo LOL. he is so hard to write... like wtf... so anyway this was been rotting away since september!! i think i did lose my mind just a little bit writing this ngl LMFAO. idk if i really leaned that heavily into the yan, but we are going to truck along and post this anyways. thanks for waitin'. also, thank you to dooby and sky for both proofreading and giving me some ideas to push through, @sxgars for the banner, and my brain/fingers for not giving up.

gojo satoru still remembers the day you left, eyes puffy and face streaked with makeup as you stormed out of your shared apartment. in gojo’s mind, it was fine, you’d be back. no matter how big of a fight, you always came back.

but it’s been months now of you ignoring his calls and texts, avoiding him whenever you see him. you’ve even blocked him on some of your social media platforms since he can only access the ones you haven’t used in years. most people have told him to let it go, move on, it’s not worth it. but satoru’s heart knows what it wants and at the core of it all, it wants: you.

he thinks you might need a little coaxing, something to help you realize you love him again. once he finds out your address, his plan is set. he spruces himself up, spritzing on the cologne of his that was your favorite, even getting suguru to stop by the flower shop near his workplace to grab you a bouquet. yes, gojo’s got it all figured out. he’ll swing by, shower you in love like he used to, and you’ll realize you missed him just as bad.

imagine his dismay when you won’t even open the door, your voice muffled from the other side. you tell him to leave, it’s over, you don’t want to see him anymore. he begs you to open it, just give him one more chance, but you sigh, crack the door open a smidge, and tell him.

“satoru, leave. my boyfriend’s here.”

he thinks that word is disgusting if he’s not the one it’s referring to. maybe you’re lying, maybe it’s another ruse to get him to piss off, but when you peek behind your shoulder, giving a little smile, the kind you used to give gojo, soft, sweet, loving; he realizes you’re completely honest.

the lump in his throat is sticky, clinging onto the walls of his neck like gum. meanwhile, his heart feels like it’s beating in his ears, a not-so-friendly reminder of his fragility.

you turn back, eyeing the flowers, an assortment of your favorite kinds - satoru, satoru, i like these, see? - and in a moment of soft-heartedness, step out. you can’t deny the pull of your heartstrings, satoru’s endearing aura plucking at them in a solemn tune, but you’re different now. you don’t need satoru anymore.

“look,” you start, adjusting his tie and fixing the crinkling cellophane. “maybe you could give this to someone else? they’re so pretty, someone out there would be lucky to have them. and, you’re satoru, handsome, funny, sweet. you’ll find someone else in no time!”

but he just stares, eyes boring into you as if it feels like the wind’s been taken out of him as your words fall on deafened ears. fuck the flowers, you’re so pretty, you’re the one people are lucky to have. in a sense, he’s bewildered because there’s no way you’ve actually moved on… right?

you sigh again, a hint of exasperation tinging your voice, “gojo, i think… this should be the last time we see each other.” you step back, hand on the door handle. to you, this is a step in the right direction.

for him, he finds that the way you don’t use his first name has him wanting to rip his hair out from the root.

“wait, please, i love you.” he states, finally finding his voice, feeling like his time with you is running out. his lip quivers while his heart continues to shatter with each passing second. “i’d do anything for you, you know that right?”

ah. same old satoru, the man who swore he’d take the moon from the sky if you wanted. anyone looking in would swear you were lucky, but you remember things being a little… suffocating. it was too much, too overwhelming eventually.

you bite your lip, strengthening your hold on the handle, ready to leave. you can’t meet his gaze, knowing that if you do you might falter. “but i don’t. i don’t love you anymore.” - it’s a lie, you know it is from the little bud inside your chest blooming, breaking out past the walls of your heart, but you just… can’t.

he shakes his head, taking a step forward. “you don’t mean that.”

“i do, satoru!” you flinch at your own voice, taking a deep breath to calm down. “please, just leave.” you tell him one more time before you retreat back inside and slam the door.

he waits for a few minutes, thinking that maybe he’s on one of those prank shows. you’re going to open the door, tell him it was a joke, and to come inside. except you don’t, and he’s stuck under the low flickering haze of your complex’s lights.

gojo’s a bit stunned on the walk back home, foggy eyesight mixed with thoughts flying a mile a minute equates to a tall stumbling man with no care for those around him. he can’t even count how many people he’s bumped into, let alone the amount of sorrys he’s muttered, the now crumpled bouquet still firmly held in his hand, indicated by the whites of his knuckles.

when he gets home, he sinks into the floor, his head wrapped around his arms before he flings the bouquet across the room. “fuck!” a picture frame of the two of you clatters to the floor, glass breaking in tiny, jagged pieces. he kept it after all, in hopes that you’d come back eventually, but now it’s clear you’re not. he doesn’t even care that he’s knocked something off a table, he’s so fucking hurt.

hurt that you’ve moved on so easily, hurt that you’re out there calling someone else ‘baby’. he can’t fucking stand it, wanting to rip out the baseboards of his home or set it all on fire. from the first day he met you, gojo’s always firmly believed you were made for him. that thought was always reaffirmed with every ‘i love you,’ that dripped from your lips into his ear every morning and evening.

maybe it’s not the best timing, but he remembers other things as well. like each time he’s been deep inside you and your pretty mouth would hang open, eyes blown and glassy, as you gasped out his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say. or even the times you took initiative yourself, crawling under the covers to wake him up, kitten licks and sloppy kisses to his cockhead. his own eyes met yours, with a lidded call of reverence, and that was all he needed to know.

there’s no reason to wallow, he thinks, a small reignition of flame in his gut brewing. each passing memory that trickles by is another reminder that you did love him. no, that’s not right. you do love him.

okay, he thinks, i can still fix this. you just need a little reminding is all. you love him and you’re just a little confused. maybe his mind is breaking, but he reminds himself that it’s better his mind than his heart.

”yeah,” he mumbles, dusting himself as he gets up off the floor. “she still loves me.”

to be honest, breaking and entering wasn’t really his thing, he never saw the appeal in it before. but, this isn't really a break in, he’s just visiting his girl. he will say though, you did make it a little too easy by keeping your key under the mat. no, you kept it easy because you knew he was coming, simple as that.

he goes in tentatively at first, wanting to see what you’ve done with the place, nodding in approval as he scans over the rooms. you’ve done a good job, just like you did before, but he does frown when not a single one of his photos is up. you must have forgotten or maybe you’re trying to save your new boy toy some heartbreak. silently, he walks over to your bedroom door, peeking in.

his mouth quips up into a smile when he sees you. you’re pretty as you sleep, just like he remembers. you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, mouth slightly agape as your drool dribbled down into the pillow.

“hey beautiful…” he murmurs when he reaches you, bending down to brush away a few strands of loose hair from your face.

a little “mm,” leaves your lips as your face twists at his touch. he leans in til he’s just a hair’s breadth away, before he ghosts his lips over yours slightly. still the same old you, lips just as soft as he remembers and what little self restraint he had continues to chip away.

the hot breath of exhales continue to mix as satoru spends his time taking in your scent. he tries his best not to whine when you pull away slightly, once again leaning further in to stay as close to you as possible. if he could get high off of it, he probably could, but the ache in his belly grows. he needs you.

“wait a minute…” he mumbles when you try to once again turn away. “why are you always trying to run away from me?” it’s a silly question, rhetorical since you’re still locked in the deep throes of sleep. but your body seems to answer in place of your voice when your legs rub against the sheets and your chest once again heaves itself over, leaving him behind.

he’s sad that you’ve taken away his favorite aromatic, but with your shuffling, you’ve moved the blankets down letting him get a peek of your bare skin. you’re always a sight to behold and his fingers run themselves lightly over your body before he’s pulling the blanket off you completely.

you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, affectionately dubbed his “sleepy wife,” even though you were never married. it’s been a while since his hands burned with such intensity, running up and down your thigh and leg, even tracing along the curvature of your ass.

his knee dips into the bed as he finally looms over you, pushing you gently onto your back, before he’s prying your thighs open with one hand. he thinks he should take his time, savor it, satoru, but you’re just so… inviting. he runs a finger across the waistband of your shorts, experimentally tugging lightly. he flickers his eyes between his hands and your face, seeking for any signs of waking as he slowly starts to expose more and more skin.

hints and glimpses of skin are all he needs to get riled up, further than he already is, as he takes the leap and pulls your bottoms off completely.

“oh fuck princess,” he groans when he sees your pretty pussy for the first time in months. he’s nearly salivating like a dog as he remembers just how good you taste, bending down to get perched between your thighs.

the first kitten lick against your clit chips away at his already waning self control. the next one that delved between your folds nearly completely breaks it. but he’s missed tasting you on his buds, missed consuming what was his. take your time, satoru. his mind ticks again, and he settles back to prepare a nice lob of spit before he’s letting it fall onto your pussy.

you shiver unconsciously at the sensation and he takes a pause, not wanting you to wake just yet. you’d probably flip out on him and he can’t have you getting mad at him just yet.

he waits until you settle again before he’s diving back in, driving his tongue between your folds as he laps up your essence. to say he was starving was an understatement, for these past months he’s felt like he’s been dying.

it’s intoxicating as your juices and his saliva mix to dribble down his chin, dripping onto your bed sheets below. he eats you out like it's his first real meal in months, tongue lapping as much of your essence as he can while his fingers dig deep into the plush skin of your thighs.

he shudders as he grinds his hips into your mattress, the tip of his nose running against your clit sending little shockwaves up your unconscious body. you taste just as good as he remembers, losing himself in the sweet slick of your cunt.

your eyelids finally flutter open, readjusting to the darkened light of your room, but you can't miss that familiar snowy peak of hair settled in between your thighs.

"satoru?" you breathe, meeting his lidded eyes as your hands come down to immediately push back against his forehead, but instead your fingers curl up into his locks.

“hi,” he chimes, smiling against your pussy as he readjusts, sitting up to shoot you a wicked smile. “hi baby, good mornin’.” the tone ofhis voice is sweet, nearly identical to what it was like when you were together.

he replaces his tongue with his fingers, whining a little when he feels you clench down onto them as he starts to scissor you open.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, but your body jerks when he rubs against a particularly sweet spot of yours.

“i missed you. i can’t visit?” he pouts, pressing a kiss against your clit before his tongue is laving over it again as if to make a point. “did you miss me?” he asks when your eyes roll back and you tug just a bit harder on his hair.

“no.” you grit, but you can’t stop the way your hips buck up into him.

“you’ve always been a bad liar, angel.” he shrugs, before he’s latching onto your cunt again.

he’s eaten you out more times than either of you can count, he knows exactly how to get you there. he knows it’s just a little bit more until you fall apart. he’s back on with even more fervor, alternating between sucking on your clit to sloppily and quickly flicking his tongue against it.

“oh fuck,” you mewl, throwing your head back and thrashing as you come undone on his fingers, pussy fluttering and toes curling.

“see, i knew you missed me.” he grins, as he brings his fingers up to suck at the slick around them. you’re still panting as you try to close your legs, but satoru’s fast, bringing his hands back down to tear them open. “ah ah ah,” he tuts, “we’re not done til i say so, got it?”

“sa- gojo, you need to leave.” you plead, head heavy and stomach churning at what’s just happened. you fucked up but it’s fine, you can fix this still.

“why?” he asks, “your boyfriend gonna come home?” fine, he’ll play your little game for now. he’ll antagonize you for a bit, before he’s disgustingly sweet again, just like the good ole days. but there’s also the anger brewing within him, why the fuck won’t you just come home?

he smirks when you pause, already knowing the answer, “don’t tell me you two aren’t living together?”

you shake your head, “that’s none of your business, gojo.” in hindsight, after satoru, you wanted to take things slowly the next time. moving in after only a month of dating probably wasn’t the best idea.

“why not? i’ve got a right to know what you’re up to.” he pouts as he says it, hoping your irritation will ease up.

you scoff, narrowing your eyes, “since when?” but your attitude is nothing more than a facade, always has been. “we’re not even together anymore-“

“since i decided, you’re mine.” he snaps, cutting you off and leaning down into you. “i decided that years ago by the way, and i’m not gonna let some fucking random mess with us.”

you squeak as you hear him rustle with his pants, freeing his aching cock and you hate the way your stomach flip flops when you see it. it’s been so long since you’ve been fucked let alone touched. gojo was the last person to have you writhing underneath him and if you told him, he’d have even more of a need to keep it that way.

your tough facade is breaking, you’re falling back into your hazy, mindless, and needy ways. you love satoru, even if the relationship was toxic, even if he gave you so little breathing room. but not yet, you won’t give in just yet.

you try to scramble back further before you’re able to twist out of his hold for just a moment. but he grabs your hair by the root, twisting and pulling you back close to him and you yelp, clawing at his hand.

“baby, you’re really testing my patience.” he hisses into your ear, before he’s shoving you back down on the bed. “god, you know i hate being mean to you. just be good for once, yeah?”

“gojo, leave.” you try one more time, but the hands that push up against him are so weak that he can tell your body’s betraying you. not only that, but your thighs shake at the pain in your scalp and you wish he would do it again.

“i don’t think you want me to.” he states and you hate that he’s right. you don’t want him to leave, you want him to slide into you, filling you up. “or am i wrong?” he asks, looming over you, running his pretty cockhead through your folds. “go ahead, tell me to stop.”

you bite your lip in an effort to not gasp out a pathetic moan, squeezing your eyes shut. each run against your clit has your legs widening, almost like you’re inviting him to come in.

“knew it,” he quips, before he’s prodding at your entrance. your eyes fly open then, breathing heavily through your nose, but you don’t try to back off letting him glide in, inch by inch. “it’s cause you love me.”

“i don’t,” you exhale as you watch his dick disappear within you, stretching you further than his fingers did. you’re nearly breathless when he finally bottoms out, fists balling into your sheets.

“yes, you do,” he breathes, his own breathing jagged and rushed, almost like it’s being squeezed out of him. “you always have and always will.”

gojo satoru always fucks with your psyche, one of the many reasons you decided to leave him. it wasn’t obvious, not at first and neither was it nefarious. it was silly little item mix ups, funny conversations that seemed to follow satoru’s lead, until it was a loss of freedom, like a nightingale in a cage.

huh? no, you’re meeting them next week… yeah, you told me last night.

but that’s not-

it is. check your phone.

oh, i guess it… is?

c’mon, would i lie to you princess? now you can hang out with me all day.

and then suddenly it was all too clear when you did get that girl’s trip out, when your friends stared at you like you were fucking insane. it wasn’t normal at all that you couldn’t do a single thing without him. your friends helped you fit the pieces together and that was enough. you were going.

leaving that day was easy, satoru hated seeing you upset and was more than willing to give you space when needed. it always went one way: you cool off, he swoops in and dresses up his words extra nicely to make you stay. but you didn’t this time.

it was easier to leave all your things there as well instead of trying to leave in the middle of night. you thought you could do it, away from him you’d figure things out.

but there must have been a part of you that still wanted him to chase after you, a divergent, rogue piece that strayed too far from the board. is that why you didn’t leave the city? still a part within satoru’s web of connected streets, just waiting until you were ensnared again.

his eyes are still as pretty, his face almost too handsome, and voice just as alluring as before. you guess that’s what this is, a predator just waiting to stick his fangs into your neck.

“you’re insane,” you gasp out, holding onto your tiniest bit of strength.

“aw, just for you.” he smiles, before he’s rolling his hips into yours, grinding in just the way you like, just as you remember.

with each stutter of his hips, your walls twitch around his length and body jolts in waves of pleasure. soft gasps and moans tumble off your lips and satoru buries his face into your neck, nipping little marks into your skin, almost as if he’s etching one word into it: mine.

it hits him almost instantly, this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembers that stupid little nuisance. he uses his hands to push up, still ramming into you as he takes a look at your face contorted in pleasure, as you peek up at him.

“gojo?” you mumble, trying to take into account that look in his eye, but your head is bubbly with the pleasure he’s giving you.

even with your walls clenching down around him with each roll of his hips, his anger seeps into him like water to a sponge as he tries to block out the idea that someone else was in what was his. that they probably saw this face that you’re making and got to hear your pretty little moans.

“where’s your fucking phone?” he hisses, snatching it off the nightstand when he finds it, illuminated by the notifications of text messages from your “boyfriend.”

you whimper, trying to grab it, but satoru holds your hands together by the wrist, strategically keeping them against your chest so you can’t move up.

“gojo, don’t!” you plead, snapping out of your trance for a moment, but the grip on your wrist tightens and you yelp. followed next is a glare, his gaze striking you right to the core. your words die off and he goes back to looking at your phone. it’s easy to unlock, you never changed the pass code.

his eyes scan the texts quickly and frankly, it’s fucking disgusting to read this guy call you pet names that only satoru can say. he continues to scroll, trying his best to not dig his nails deep into your skin as he takes note of every heart emoji, flirtatious interaction, and pet name from your end.

he keeps his breathing deep and even to keep himself from blowing his lid and he has half a mind to block his number to make sure you can’t speak to him again. but suddenly he’s got a better idea, getting back at him seemed so easy.

you look so cute underneath him, pretty pussy enveloping his cock just like it was made to do, why not show it off? especially to someone that pissed him off.

“hey baby, can you smile for me?” he says, voice sugary sweet as he opens your camera app, but you shake your head, trying to sink further into the pillow. you’re wary of the sudden personality change, especially when he finally releases your hands.

he pouts, “c’mon now, you’re so pretty when you smile… please?” he sighs when you continue to refuse, but continues on, angling the camera til he’s satisfied with the image.

“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” he says as he zooms onto your flushed face, hands coming up to hide it, before paneling back to record down your body. he stops when he reaches where both your hips are flush together, pussy sucking in his cock right to the brim. “fuck, would you look at that? i don’t even know your name man, but how fuckin’ pretty is this?”

you gasp when you realize what he’s doing, but before you can say anything, you feel a hand come down onto your sensitive pussy. you yelp out but his hand comes down again and you're mortified when it sounds more like a moan. “bet you didn’t know she liked that,” he goads, “she also likes this.” he says, wrapping a hand around your jugular and giving a squeeze.

your eyes roll back as the air escapes you, muddying your sight in little black dots. your hands fall to pull at his wrist, a moot effort considering the strength difference, and he laughs. a condescending flit of noise dripping in ego. “scratch that, she fucking loves that. hey, in my defense, i’m a little rusty, it’s been a while.”

gojo has always been one of two things, needy and arrogant. but the worst was always when the two came together, usually in his worst fits of jealousy. he’s never recorded you before, always too eager to remember to set anything up before he’s pouncing on you.

but this satoru feels different, he feels scarier, nearly dangerous, although you shake off that fear til it’s nothing more than a fleeting thought. you liked this - no he was right, you loved this. before you broke up you were always begging satoru, just a little harder, just a little meaner, please.

with another heavy squeeze as the oxygen is once again cut off from you, you feel the walls around your heart finally crumbling completely, almost like a switch is flipped on. you can’t run from nor deny the heady need that was gojo satoru, the man that knew you in and out. you flutter your lashes at him, like you always did when you wanted to tell him something. he loosens his grip on your neck, just enough so that you can speak, “you wanna say somethin’, baby?”

“u-use me,” you mumble, voice no louder than a whisper as your eyes start to leak that familiar pretty liquid that drives him insane. you’ve missed him, missed this - whatever the fuck it was, some messed up amalgamation dressed up under the guise of love.

“hm?” he goads, a sick smile plastered on his face because you’re finally acting how you should. “a little louder for me, princess. i can’t hear you.”

“use me!” you sob, trying to shift your hips to get some sort of stimulation, “please, satoru, please.”

the use of his first name has him feeling like an actual god as he switches the camera back onto him. “you heard her.” he says with a wicked grin, before ending the video and pressing send. he tosses your phone to the side, “now where were we?”

you whine when he shifts, one elbow propping him up as his hand once again finds it’s place against your neck. your own hand resumes it’s place as well, but instead of pulling this time you press, lashes heavy with tears as you wordlessly beg satoru to claim what’s his again.

he’s so close to you now, his snowy hair tickles your forehead and his breath mixes with yours as he finally starts to move. you choke out a sob as he ever so slowly hits all the right places and you wonder how long you actually managed to make this far.

“this is what you wanted isn’t it, baby?” he coos, being careful to not choke you for too long, even though you almost wish he’d fuck you passed out. “just needed a little reminder that i’m all you need right?”

you nod, hiccuping with each thrust that knocks any air you have left out of your lungs. he’s right, just the two of you is all either of you need. you think the world is melting away as satoru presses kisses against your spit ridden lips, his own groans mixing in with yours as your tongues mesh together in sloppy, messy runs.

“and now you’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?” he picks up the pace, slamming in harder, rougher, like he’s proving a point. but he’s almost always right, with each kiss of his mushroom tip against your sweet spot pulsing pleasure throughout your body. “show me how much you love me.”

“‘m close, toru,” you sniffle, nails digging into his arm as you blink away more tears, gasping up into his mouth. “‘m so close, please.”

“i know.” he states, pressing his forehead against yours, sticky and sweat covered, as he gazes into your glassy, hazy eyes. “come on, cum for me princess. show me who you belong to.”

there’s something so euphoric about satoru’s words, claiming every last bit of you, that you fall apart almost instantly. your orgasm hits you hard, rippling through you as your eyes and head both roll back, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock.

“f-fuck! cumming, toru, i’m-“ you squeal, tears running down your face freely but satoru swallows up your moans, his lips once again sealing over yours, since those belong to him too.

that’s enough for him, a firm affirmation that you love him, and he loses control of his once precise thrusts. he pistons into you, heavy balls slapping against your skin and pounding hard as if to leave marks all up your velvet walls. you milk out his own orgasm, walls fluttering and he detaches from your lips to growl out, “you’re all fucking mine, got it?”

you chant out “yes,” as many times you can, still riding out your own orgasm as his cum paints your walls in white, til he finally slows back down to a stuttering close. he pants as he runs his hand up to rub his thumb over your tear-ridden cheek.

“i love you.” he mumbles and you blink up at him sleepily meeting his pretty lidded blue eyes. it’s a stark contrast to the satoru just moments ago, pounding into you like his life depended on it.

“love you too, toru.” you whisper, running a hand over his. your head and body feel heavy, yet your mind is still floating above the clouds. he’s probably oversensitive but you can’t care, knowing that your neck is prettier now that his fingerprints are littered on it. “toru… again.”

he laughs when he feels you start to grind your hips, sticky slick and cum dripping from your hole. he feels like he’s on cloud nine hearing you beg for him after all this time.

“please, please, toru,” you whine, craning your neck to brush sloppy, wet kisses across his lips and jawline. “i love you, so please.”

“course, angel,” he mumbles in between kisses, “just gimme a few minutes and i’ll give you everything you want.”

#gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader smut #cw yandere #cw cheating #cw dubcon #pibby writing

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evilcowgirl · 7 months

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jealous ellie headcanons

ft. sapphic longing

i get my inspo from sintuationships bc im real

୨♡୧

ellie doesn't like not being around you at social events, or with you out of her sight. it stresses her out so much that she can't even properly enjoy herself without you close to her. can barely pay attention if someone's speaking to her because shes busy trying to watch you in the crowd.

convinces herself that everyone wants you. you often have to assure her that your friends and other people you interact with casually aren't secretly pinning over you or waiting on the opportunity to make a move. she never believes you, always stuck on the idea that you're too good to not have a billion more options.

ALWAYS thinks someone is flirting with you, and get pouty about it. when she's feeling bold enough she'll say something direct.

"i mean you didn't see the way she was looking at you from my perspective, you guys were basically at 3rd base."

ellie knows that you're only her friend, that you don't owe her loyalty, but anytime you bring up time you've spent with someone else she goes all quiet and short with you, not because she's mad at you, but because she gets an unexplainable feeling in her stomach like she's gonna drop dead when she thinks of you enjoying the company of anyone else but her.

cannot go an hour without bringing you up to other people (barely exaggerating.) her mind wanders to you so often she hardly even notices it. at the sight of a trinket you'd like, or a color she knows you love. whenever she hears someone say something that reminds her of you, she's quick to to point that out. you stay on her mind always.

can't handle being away from you too long, she gets antsy and starts asking around about your whereabouts. especially when she's missing you, all hell breaks loose. when she finds out that you were only getting lunch or something simple like that she feels embarrassed at how desperate she was to find you. (she'll definitely do it again tmr.)

likes to see you sitting in her room, around all her stuff doing whatever. painting your nails, reading, listening to music ect. just getting to see you in her personal space makes her happy. knowing that you're safe and with her.

will start an argument if she doesn't know where you've been. arguing with ellie is always slightly maddening because shes so nonchalant when she's being ridiculous that it makes you question yourself.

she's so sweet and nervous when she apologizes though, going over what shes going to say over and over in her room and still messing up.

"i'm just—fuck this is stupid—i shouldn't have said what i said to you. . . about the thing earlier?" she'll look away like a scolded puppy waiting on you to say something. "i'm sorry."

if you accept her apology, you can visibly see the fear leave her body. the worst thing that could happen to her is losing you and anytime she thinks that might happen her whole world gets turned upside down until she knows you're okay with her.

she doesn't see you as her property, just something really special that she wants to keep safe and close.

likes to keep a hand on you when you're walking with her. on your waist, a hand around your wrist or tugging at your clothes when she needs you to follow. she doesn't care if people notice, she'd prefer them to see actually.

writes the little things she notices about you down like she's studying you or something. the way you look at her when you're listening intently, how you act when you're sleepy. things she knows no one else would take note of. she jots down her thoughts about you when they're overwhelming because it helps, talking about it isn't an option she doesn't want to share you with anyone.

"she's so pretty when she's doing her hair, like a fucking angel on earth. she's driving me INSANE. i feel like i'm going to mess this up somehow."

gets jealous when you're babying dogs in front of her and will admit it !

"you never pay that much attention to me." when you totally do.

huge complainer, she's so bold about it too ! if you're spending any extra time with someone she'll get all dramatic about it and ask when you guys' wedding is and if she can be the maid of honor because shes petty.

can and will make things a competition if that means she'll get the chance to show off to you. some guy your age is impressive at target practice? she'll make an effort to double what he did just to say she can.

"i guess I've just had more experience." meanwhile she knew exactly what she was doing.

getting praise from you is like her main goal, anytime you let her know you're proud of her she feels like the most capable person on earth. on the other side of that is her absolutely debilitating jealousy when it comes to hearing you brag on other people. ellie doesn't pride herself on being nice but she gets pretty mean when she feels like you're giving attention she should be getting to others. you mention how well jesse did on his patrol and all of the sudden she's going on about how she's killed more infected as a kid than jesse could even imagine seeing.

oppositely, shes so sweet to you when you're feeling down, always making sure you know no one's allowed to mess with you (other than her) and if someone had she'd set things straight.

when you're feeling bad, or you're sick she likes to watch you sleep because you look peaceful and its ideal for her to see her girl safe nd happy.

strokes your hands and face while you're asleep, careful not to wake you. she's so infatuated and isn't quite sure how to handle it yet but for now she's able to roll with just being your person.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie tlou fanfic #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x female reader #tlou fic #ellie the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader

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kisskiss-slashslash · 1 year

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Slashers (plus Micheal) chasing their future s/o and mid chase they trip head first bc of a rock and their s/o just turns around and laughs at them. The slasher just get up and start chasing them again but there s/o can’t stop laughing

I think it’s a funny fic❤️

U don’t have to do this btw

Oh but I want to 😄 unfortunately I couldn't come up with a good scenario for Michael, sorry. If I ever get an idea for it I will add him to thia post

Slashers tripping and falling while chasing their future s/o

Jason Voorhees

Jason is unsure about chasing you, and that’s the only reason why this happens. Usually, when he is *really* determined to kill someone, something like that wouldn’t happen to him; not at Crystal Lake at least, where he knows every stick and stone by heart. He may get his weapon stuck in places, but tripping? No way.

But you… you are different. Really, you don’t seem like his other victims at all. Your only real “crime” is entering his territory in the first place. So yes, Jason isn’t quite as set on killing you. He might even let you get away.

He is debating with himself if sparing you would really be a good idea, when his foot gets caught on a small rock, and he finds himself face first on yet another rock, leaving him with a bloody nose.

You stop and look at him, your cheeks puffed up trying to contain your laugher. But when you try to speak, it just bursts out. Jason, of course, is not pleased, and immediately gets up to continue his pursuit.

Busy laughing as you are, you do not see the rope on the ground, and you quickly find yourself in the same position as Jason, face-first on the ground, with a nosebleed and a bruise on your face.

He catches up to you and you turn around. “I… guess I deserve it now, for laughing at you.” You see the blood dripping from underneath his mask and pull a tissue from your pocket. “Here. Sorry for laughing earlier.”

He hesitates before accepting, and once his bleeding nose is plugged up, he reaches out his hand to pull you to your feet.

Okay, it wasn’t nice of you to laugh at him, but you apologized. And that seals the deal for him; you’re a good one. You don’t have to die.

Vincent Sinclair

He actually trips over his own equipment. No idea *how* you got into his workshop while still breathing; you were probably trying to hide from Bo, only to find yourself face to face with his brother. Once he notices you, he of course grabs his ornate carving knifes and tries to attack you, only for the strap of his apron to get stuck at his chair, which causes him to trip over said chair while trying to untangle himself. And to put the cherry on top, when he hits the ground, his mask cracks and falls off.

You try to bite back your laughter. Unsuccessfully. Still, you decide to run before Vincent can recover.

He catches up to you in the living room of the house. Now maskless, he advances on you while you are alternating between giggles and sobs.

Then you can see him. And just kind of blurt out:“A pretty face like yours really shouldn’t be covered up by a mask.”

He lowers his knives, confused. Are you… *hitting on him*?

Freddy Krueger

Even in a world where he is god, Freddy isn’t quite safe from the little annoyances of every day life. This time, while making one of his usual quips, he makes a small misstep and lands on his ass.

You laugh, all of your fear going up in smoke, and with that, Freddy’s powers.

“Fucking hell”, he grumbles while he pulls himself to his feet. “What, you think I’m harmless just because I tripped, bitch?”

You are doubled over, holding your sides. “Oh really? Cause you don’t look that threatening right now, old man!”

He growls, frustrated that you are *right*. You are in his world now, but he can’t do anything because you’re not scared.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is pursuing you through the walls of his family’s estate, but underestimates his momentum while rounding a corner, which causes him to lose his balance and fall backwards.

You look at the sight, and while the laughter is bubbling up inside you already, you can’t help but feel the protectiveness you have started feeling towards your “charge” flare up.

He said he wouldn’t hurt you. He said he would be good. And really he has never hurt you, right?

Still chuckling to yourself, you walk up to him and offer your hand. “I think I win this round”, you say, trying to play it off as if you were only playing catch.

He looks up at you and allows you to pull him up. “You… were just playing?”

“Of course, would I be laughing otherwise?”

Brahms doesn’t quite believe that, but as long as it means you will stay, he won’t ask any more questions.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba does tend to be a little bit on the clumsy side, so it’s no surprise when he loses his balance while swinging the chainsaw at you. It clatters to the ground, and gets dangerously close to cutting *him* instead.

You quickly grab the handle and turn it off, almost out of reflex, as if the person about to be cut by it hadn’t just tried to kill you.

The ridiculousness of the whole situation makes you burst out laughing. “What am I even doing here?”, you choke out inbetween tears of laughter. Then you shake your head and look at Bubba.

“You okay? The chainsaw didn’t get you, did it?”

He looks at you like you’re a hero. No, he can’t eat you. You saved him. He has to tell Drayton that you’re a friend now.

#slasher x reader #jason voorhees x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #freddy krueger x reader

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kagscore · 3 months

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𝜗𝜚 playing games with the boys

feat. isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, itoshi rin note. this is self indulgent because i wanna play league with nagi i fear ૮꒰⸝⸝> <⸝⸝꒱ა i hope you enjoy ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

⊹˚. ᡣ𐭩.𖥔 ݁ ˖ playing rocket league with 𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐘𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈 looks like . . .

the two of you sitting in his bedroom, you curled up in his lap as you hold the controller. he holds your hands with his, moving the controller and pressing the buttons for you so you can get a grasp of the movements you need to know. slowly but surely, he lets you take full control and quietly cheers for you as you score goals and block them in his favorite game—car soccer. he's almost brimming with excitement at the idea of teaching you all sorts of tricks—flip resets, [insert other terminology]—anything so that eventually the two of you can play duos together and dominate the game. shows you how to decorate your car, the types of cars you can get and laughing when you ask if you could just drive a vw beetle instead. gets himself a second remote to play on his xbox when he thinks you’re finally starting to get the game and trying to cheer you up when you lose your first game duo’d together.

“you sure you wanna keep playing? i know it isn’t the easiest thing in the world…” “i think it’s so cute you wanna get good at this game baby, of course we can play when you come over again.”

⊹˚. ᡣ𐭩.𖥔 ݁ ˖ playing league of legends with 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 looks like . . .

nagi absolutely tossing you in headfirst into aram, knowing that you won’t get kills or assists and will die a lot but absolutely sweating his balls off so that he can still carry you to a win. you ask a lot of questions about who you’re playing, who you’re playing against, your abilities and ultimates and just generally what to do and him answering every single question you ask with patience and a soft explanation. sometimes you do questionable things in game, but he just laughs and says it’s okay. congratulates when you finally figure out who you want to main, celebrates when you get your first kill, and even buys you that skin you want as a gift for taking the time to play a game with him and spend time with him. always rerolls his character in aram, trying to find someone you like and getting a bit teary eyed when you recognize his favorite character to play once.

“it’s your favorite character, babe, swap me for them.” “i know you’re new, but please stop dying to tower. i’ll even take us out for dinner, i’m begging.”

⊹˚. ᡣ𐭩.𖥔 ݁ ˖ playing valorant with 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍 looks like . . .

rin trying his hardest every game you play together to be the top frag to impress you subtly, and him avenging you every time you die because how could he let his person die without killing the person that killed you? drops you his gun skins and even switches them when you guys wait in queue to skins you prefer—if he doesn’t have the skin you like, he always gives it to you when he finds and kills the person with it in a game. goes into deathmatches to one v. one you to try and help you learn the mechanics of the game and the shooting. if anyone is rude to you in a game, he’s immediately cursing and hexing their family and generational lineage in his head/in chat. he doesn’t like talking in game, but will if it means defending you against everyone else being mean because you’re bottom fragging. buys you your first skin after you get your first kill and periodically logging into your account to buy you more and surprise you sometimes.

“you should try a duelist if you want to get more kills, my love.” “now we just need to get you an ace, and we can do something special.”

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dailyadventureprompts · 5 months

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Homebrew Mechanic: Meaningful Research

Being careful about when you deliver information to your party is one of the most difficult challenges a dungeonmaster may face, a balancing act that we constantly have to tweak as it affects the pacing of our campaigns.

That said, unlike a novel or movie or videogame where the writers can carefully mete out exposition at just the right time, we dungeonmasters have to deal with the fact that at any time (though usually not without prompting) our players are going to want answers about what's ACTUALLY going on, and they're going to take steps to find out.

To that end I'm going to offer up a few solutions to a problem I've seen pop up time and time again, where the heroes have gone to all the trouble to get themselves into a great repository of knowledge and end up rolling what seems like endless knowledge checks to find out what they probably already know. This has been largely inspired by my own experience but may have been influenced by watching what felt like several episodes worth of the critical role gang hitting the books and getting nothing in return.

I've got a whole write up on loredumps, and the best way to dripfeed information to the party, but this post is specifically for the point where a party has gained access to a supposed repository of lore and are then left twiddling their thumbs while the dm decides how much of the metaplot they're going to parcel out.

When the party gets to the library you need to ask yourself: Is the information there to be found?

No, I don't want them to know yet: Welcome them into the library and then save everyone some time by saying that after a few days of searching it’s become obvious the answers they seek aren’t here. Most vitally, you then either need to give them a new lead on where the information might be found, or present the development of another plot thread (new or old) so they can jump on something else without losing momentum.

No, I want them to have to work for it: your players have suddenly given you a free “insert plothook here” opportunity. Send them in whichever direction you like, so long as they have to overcome great challenge to get there. This is technically just kicking the can down the road, but you can use that time to have important plot/character beats happen.

Yes, but I don’t want to give away the whole picture just yet: The great thing about libraries is that they’re full of books, which are written by people, who are famously bad at keeping their facts straight. Today we live in a world of objective or at least peer reviewed information but the facts in any texts your party are going to stumble across are going to be distorted by bias. This gives you the chance to give them the awnsers they want mixed in with a bunch of red herrings and misdirections. ( See the section below for ideas)

Yes, they just need to dig for it: This is the option to pick if you're willing to give your party information upfront while at the same time making it SEEM like they're overcoming the odds . Consider having an encounter, or using my minigame system to represent their efforts at looking for needles in the lithographic haystack. Failure at this system results in one of the previous two options ( mixed information, or the need to go elsewhere), where as success gets them the info dump they so clearly crave.

The Art of obscuring knowledge AKA Plato’s allegory of the cave, but in reverse

One of the handiest tools in learning to deliver the right information at the right time is a sort of “slow release exposition” where you wrap a fragment lore the party vitally needs to know in a coating of irrelevant information, which forces them to conjecture on possibilities and draw their own conclusions. Once they have two or more pieces on the same subject they can begin to compare and contrast, forming an understanding that is merely the shadow of the truth but strong enough to operate off of.

As someone who majored in history let me share some of my favourite ways I’ve had to dig for information, in the hopes that you’ll be able to use it to function your players.

A highly personal record in the relevant information is interpreted through a personal lens to the point where they can only see the information in question

Important information cameos in the background of an unrelated historical account

The information can only be inferred from dry as hell accounts or census information. Cross reference with accounts of major historical events to get a better picture, but everything we need to know has been flattened into datapoints useful to the bureaucracy and needs to be re-extrapolated.

The original work was lost, and we only have this work alluding to it. Bonus points if the existent work is notably parodying the original, or is an attempt to discredit it.

Part of a larger chain of correspondence, referring to something the writers both experienced first hand and so had no reason to describe in detail.

The storage medium (scroll, tablet, arcane data crystal) is damaged in some way, leading to only bits of information being known.

Original witnesses Didn’t have the words to describe the thing or events in question and so used references from their own environment and culture. Alternatively, they had specific words but those have been bastardized by rough translations.

Tremendously based towards a historical figure/ideology/religion to the point that all facts in the piece are questionable. Bonus points if its part of a treatise on an observably untrue fact IE the flatness of earth

#homebrew mechanic #d&d mechanics #research #tableskills #tabletop inspiration #dm tip #dm advice #exposition

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galedekarios · 5 months

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more gale & tara epilogue stuff

tara's epilogue conversation is so extremely devastating if gale sacrificed himself. since i can't bring myself to play it, i thought i'd look at it in the files and share what i find here.

tara can be found at camp and this is how the conversation with the player begins:

Tara the Tressym: Oh, hello, darling. I was hoping to see you. Withers informed me about this little get-together and I thought I'd show my whiskers.devnote Tara the Tressym: I can almost feel Gale here. Among his friends - in you. Some part of him remains, doesn't it? devnote: Gale has died so she's very sad and nostalgic.

this devnote is repeated for almost every line for tara in this convo.

from here, the player has various options to reply. i'll be going through them in order.

the first is one where the player points out the magically conjured image of himself that gale left behind in case of his permanent death:

Player: Well, his magical ghost is still here, if that's what you mean. Tara the Tressym: That thing's no more than a shadow of the real man. A nonsense. Though it captures some of his more insufferable qualities...

the second option is the player saying that they are feeling something similar, a presence that reminds them of gale:

Player: It does, Tara. I can feel his presence too. Tara the Tressym: A crackling in the air, isn't it? That flair of magic and mischief.

despite the tragedy of it all, i do love tara describing gale's presence as 'that flair of magic and mischief'. it's so very sweet and sad, especially remembering just long she's known him.

perhaps here she remembers the boy who accidentally set the rose bush on fire and cried, just as elminster does. or perhaps the boy who summoned a magma mephit, causing chaos, but also making a lifelong friend.

the third option is to tell tara that you miss gale, too, and this honestly made me tear up:

Player: I miss him too, Tara. Tara the Tressym: That's good. We should miss him. He was such a lovely fellow. Proud as a peacock, but... my little love. Tara the Tressym: Oh, what I wouldn't give to snuggle up on his lap one more time. Just once would do. Player: Would a fuss from me make you feel better?

"He was such a lovely fellow. Proud as a peacock, but... my little love."

PROUD AS A PEACOCK BUT... MY LITTLE LOVE

M Y L I T T L E L O V E

this is obviously completely fine so i'll continue with the fourth option:

Player: You can snuggle up in my lap later, if you like. Tara the Tressym: Oh, I couldn't possibly... unless... well, perhaps it's not a terrible idea. Gale would be quite pleased to know we've made friends, wouldn't he?

it's clear that tara needs some comfort. despite her stiff upper lip approach to most news devastating to her and the thin veneer of control she puts on here.

the fifth option is expressing that you know how she feels:

Player: I know how you feel. Tara the Tressym: Ah, to lose the one you love the most. What a terrible thing.

the sixth option is rather callous and tara's response to it once again heartbreaking:

Player: Alas, you can't. Tara the Tressym: No. Not in this life, at least.

the last option again shows tara's true grief at what happened:

Player: He's gone. We have to accept that. Tara the Tressym: I suppose we do. But I certainly wish we didn't.

most of these different options lead to the end of the conversation with tara, where she invites the player to visit her and morena in waterdeep:

again, the player has various choices to either accept or refuse her invitation. i won't go through them all and you can read for yourself in the screenshot i provided. but i do want to look at these two options here:

Tara the Tressym: Perhaps you'd be willing to come meet Gale's mother, some time? She misses him so - and I know it would do her heart a world of good to discuss her son with someone who knew him as he was. Player: I'd love to, but I'm leaving Faerûn after tonight. Tara the Tressym: Well if you ever come back do look us up in Waterdeep. Surname 'Dekarios'. I'd enjoy the chance to reminisce about the good man we knew.

i'm once more reminded of that one line in elminster's letter and i feel so sad for morena:

Does he live within his mother’s ageing heart, weeping for those roses?

Player: I'll consider it. Tara the Tressym: See that you do. We'd love to have you. Things have been rather quiet without himself cluttering up the place.

which made me think about gale's line that his tower has never been so free of clutter ever since he had to deal with his condition.

anyhow, i hope this was interesting to some of you!

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #tara the tressym #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 meta #bg3 spoilers #bg3 patch 5 spoilers #gale epilogue spoilers #ch: gale dekarios #ch: tara the tressym #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3

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ashwhowrites · 7 months

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Older! Rockstar! Eddie Munson x reader, she goes to a concert of Corroded Coffin and Eddie sees her and he thinks she's cute, they've been in some dates but groupies of Eddie start to talk bad about reader and she's always sad because of that and Eddie decides that he doesn't want to see reader sad so they have a day without their phones so she can be relaxed and Eddie talks about that to his followers and he hates that people talk bad about her girl (idk if modern au would be good for this, but I hope you can write more Older! Eddie fics, we need him! No pressure tho!)

We can definitely make it modern au for the social media part. And I agree, we need older! Eddie. I hope you enjoy this and thank you for requesting <3

Fans

Y/N wasn't the type to go to concerts alone, but one of her favorite bands was playing and none of her friends would go. Her friends weren't into the older bands, but Y/N loved Corroded Coffin for years and now she was old enough to get into the venues. She wasn't going to miss her chance to see them just because no one would go with her.

As she stood in the front row, Eddie Munson right there in front of her eyes, she knew she made the right choice. She couldn't help but feel like he was constantly looking right back at her. His eyes stared at her as she sang along, her eyes switching from his eyes to his lips, to his fingers on the guitar. He was even more hot up close.

Eddie finished the set, his mind still thinking of the girl in the front row. She knew every song, every beat, and she was gorgeous.

"Question, how old do you think the girl in the front was? With the black cropped Eddie's girl shirt, and red lips." Eddie asked, the band in the dressing room as they stripped out of their sweaty clothes.

"No idea, but old enough to get in." Gareth shrugged. Eddie nodded, that was enough for him. He didn't bother to find another shirt, throwing on a zip-up and sweatpants. He threw his hair in a bun and headed back out to the crowd. Girls screaming when they caught him sneaking by. He smiled and winked at a few as he tried to find the girl. Catching the back of her as she headed for the exit.

"HEY! RED LIPS!" He screamed, he hoped his voice would carry over the sound of the screaming girls. But she kept walking, Eddie signed as many things as he could as his eyes stayed on her.

"YO EDDIE'S GIRL IN FRONT ROW!" he tried again, this time she stopped. He could see her head look down at her shirt and then slowly turn around. Eddie softly pushed past the girls, apologizing for walking by, he promised to come back to sign things.

"Me?" She mouthed as he walked closer.

He smirked and nodded, walking faster to reach her. She stood next to the door and looked around. Thousands of girls staring at them. Some older women and some young girls like her.

"Here's my number, use it anyway you want." He winked as he handed her the piece of paper.

~~~

That was four months ago, and they've been on countless dates since. She couldn't understand the concept that she was dating her biggest celebrity crush. She tried to keep herself calm around him, but he made her lose her mind.

She hung out with the band, she sat on the sidelines during practices. It was like her world flipped upside down.

Eddie was exactly as she thought he'd be. He was hyper, funny, and childish at times. He was still young at heart and enjoyed doing the dumb things she did. Age wasn't an issue for them, but it was for the fans.

Y/N knew that dating someone famous would be hard. She was a fan herself, she's read countless tweets about jealous fans and how cruel they could be. She never thought she'd be on the receiving end of it.

The relationship was still fresh, and the fans one by one finding out more about her. Some fans thought she looked good with Eddie, and many loved that she was a real fan before the relationship even began. But once the news got out that Eddie Munson, the heartthrob was dating a younger girl, the world exploded.

Every magazine was fixated on it. It was the hot gossip and the main topic Eddie talked about in interviews. Eddie was never a private person and she didn't expect him to be now either. But she wished her age wasn't a big scandal.

"Eddie Munson's new girlfriend.....read about the hot young twenty-one-year-old now!"

"Eddie Munson shows off new young girlfriend, love or just lust?"

"The lead singer of Corroded Coffin is off the market! But seems to only be looking in the juniors section."

Yeah, some got nasty about it.

She sat on her phone, looking at the comments below Eddie's new post, a selfie of them on the beach.

"He's only with her because she's young."

"Jeez can she be anymore see through? Dating the biggest star in the world at her age? was she even born when his music came out?"

"Probably dropped out of college and needs a quick money grab."

"she's not even that attractive.....I think he's more into her being twenty years younger than him."

"I hope she enjoys this while she can. Not like he's going to settle down and marry her"

"I hope he sees she's just in it for the money."

"I told you to stop reading those," Eddie demanded, snatching the phone out of her hand. He sighed as he turned off her phone, putting it in his back pocket. He crossed his arms as he stood in front of her.

"I'm sorry! It's just that they hate me. These are your fans and I want them to like me." Y/N said, looking up as Eddie gave her the dad look.

"Okay giving me that look doesn't make me feel any better about people making jokes about me being young enough to be your daughter." She huffed, crossing her arms.

"Baby, don't listen to them. They don't know about our relationship, why believe what they have to say?" Eddie said, taking a seat next to her. He grabbed her legs and put them on his lap, his rough hands rubbing her soft skin.

"These are people that love you like I do! I hate to disappoint everyone because I'm not the right age."

"If you spend so much time listening to them, can you listen to me? I don't care what anyone thinks of our relationship. The people that truly love me, like the way you do, will accept and love you. You aren't disappointing anyone and there's nothing wrong with your age. The band loves you! They adore you and support us. They don't look at you and see your age. They see the hot girl that was front row screaming her lungs out in an Eddie Munson girl shirt." He said, his hand stopped on her knee giving it a comforting squeeze.

"I love you and I love the band as well." She said smiling. She moved into his lap and he wrapped his arms around her.

"No phones today. Just me and you." He said, kissing her cheek as she cuddled into him.

"Just me and you." She repeated.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff #older eddie munson x reader #rockstar! eddie x reader #ashwhowrites

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love-toxin · 1 year

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re4remake leon got me acting like a WHORE. i want that man carnally.

(cws: the nasty, coming home sex, barely teetering on the edge of obsessive!leon, gn!pov)

ok but re4make Leon gets me extra hard bc he's in that stage where if someone comes on to him/asks about his lovelife he just grins and tells them he's got the prettiest little thing waiting for him back home, he mentions you by name every so often and recounts a story or two now and again to Ashley or Luis while they're venturing around bc usually he's thinking of you when he's not occupied with the mission. so people get this image of you as this little angel that could do no wrong and is absolutely the purest thing alive, it's adorable even when one of them sneaks a look at his wallet to see his photo of you/it gets taken or falls out of his pocket, and how annoyed and possessive he gets as he fights to get it back--Leon's obviously whipped, so he must treat you like an absolute princess or prince or just plain royalty. even Ada's jealousy is a little palpable when he mentions your name bc you know he's dodging her advances like the plague out of pure respect and devotion to you.

but then he goes home to you and just absolutely goes feral on your poor body--I'm talking barely a hello on his way in, slamming the door shut, throwing you on the bed and moaning an "I missed you so damn much" into your mouth as he starts tearing off your clothes and his. he just totally takes you to the cleaners and doesn't let go of you long enough even to breathe; he's constantly losing air and having to pant to catch his breath in between kisses, but dives right back in because he just can't get close enough. you have no idea just how bad he missed you, how many times he wanted to just say fuck it to the mission and come right back home to you--but you'll get a picture of it once he's folding your legs back and straining to fit his cock as deep as he can go, his mumbling filthy and downright obsessive as he comments on how tight you are and how he knows you haven't been looking for someone else in his absence--"you're such a good partner, you know that? you're the most loyal and you deserve the world and I never want anyone else but you. how can you be so sweet and fuck me so good too? you're perfect. you're my perfect angel and you're mine for as long as you live."

and even when he's cumming and has his forehead pressed to yours, sweaty and chest heaving as he plants his hips firm and makes you take every warm, thick shot he has for you, Leon doesn't slow down as the afterglow sets in and pulls out only so he can spread you apart with his fingers and watch his cum leak out of you. he's strong, he knows he can give you more, more to the point of making you pass out where you lay. but to see you have no qualms about that and pull on his shoulders to tug him back up, for you to peck him on his kiss-swollen lips and ask him if he can remind you one more time of how dearly you were missed--Leon couldn't be more in love. the sex is always great and he always misses it when he's away, but nothing compares to how sincerely he adores you in the purest way, and how lost he knows he would be if he could never come back to you like this.

he meant what he said; you're his forever, and nothing short of hell swallowing up the world will ever break him apart from you. hell, even then, he'd find a way to get back to you--if he can survive RC, Plagas, and every other shit thing that's happened in his short life just to survive, then he can battle an apocalypse for the sake of someone he dreams every night of waking up next to.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #re4make #resident evil 4 #resident evil #spicy writing #ellie writes #anons

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roses-for-rosalyn · 8 months

Note

Hey sweetheart, I have this idea about cop!Ellie and cop!reader I've never shared bc I'm so shy to ask, but if you are open to write about it here it is.(sorry if something doesn't make sense inglish is not my first lenguage)

Well Ellie and reader are work partners and they don't really like each other because Ellie is kinda mean?(she is the director btw) but there's a tension between them anyways. So they have a night shift together and on the way in the car the reader begins to flirt, like touching ellie's thigh, and she stops in a field and fucks the reader brains out<33

-💌

This took forever but I hope I did your idea justice!

a/n: sorry I haven’t written anything in so long, life is crazy

Ellie x reader

Wc: 3k (roughly)

Minors dni 🔞 (I will jump through your screen and poke you in the eyes I stg)

CWs: police officer! Ellie and reader, play girl Ellie, fem reader, cop stuff idk, enemies to lovers (ish?), thigh riding, overstim, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), multiple orgasms

—

As a small town cop things rarely became dangerous, so on the rare occasion things did go awry no one was really prepared. You got a call about a car speeding through town at about 90 miles an hour. It quickly becomes a chase with Williams at the wheel. Before she even starts catching up to the car you both begin bickering on what roads to take to catch up and who can read the license plate better. The world becomes a blur as the car picks up speed, the roaring of the engine and the sound of the sirens make it hard to hear anything.

You attempt to shout over the noise, “Williams we might be able to catch them if we take-”

“Shutthefuckup I know what I’m doing!” She yells back even louder, more irritated because you dared tell her what to do. She didn’t even let you finish and she missed the turn that would have taken you ahead of the car to block their path.

“Williams we’re gonna lose ‘em.” You couldn’t convince her, you’re not sure anyone could have. The car takes a sudden turn and she misses it, she quickly reverses and turns down the dirt road only for the car to disappear from sight. She tries to make a few turns but it’s useless, these roads went in every direction with thick woods surrounding them. Even townies got lost in there.

She slows the car down eventually coming to a stop in the middle of the road and quietly mutters “Fuck.” under her breath.

“Maybe you should have listened to the directional advice from someone who was fucking born here instead of trying to do everything yourself.” You can’t help but notice you scolded her like a primary school teacher, but she makes it so hard when she acts like this.

“Please I don’t need a fucking ‘I told you so’ talk right now.” She huffs.

“I hope you know this is completely your fault, I can’t fucking believe-”

“I swear to god if you keep talking I’m going to kick you out of this goddamn car.” She turns and looks at you straight in the eye, challenging you. Her tone is eerily calm. You narrow your gaze but say nothing, turning to look straight ahead. And with that she drives you both back to the station, defeated with only half of the criminal's license plate.

- -

Patrol partners are supposed to be friends- Or at least friend-ly. That’s what anyone would assume, you have to spend every day together, not getting along would just result in various inconvenient miscommunications and misunderstandings.

Yeah, well you weren’t that lucky. Your patrol partner is Ellie Williams aka “Williams” according to her various male coworkers. Her female coworkers tended to lean more towards nicknames like “whore” or “slut” considering she hooked up with a couple of them and then acted like she barely knew them at work the next day and did it all over again. She had to start finding hookups outside the station last month because all her go-tos had refused her unless she wanted something serious. On top of that the few that she got with turned the rest of the girls against her, all she had left was you and all the guys at the station- and you didn’t really count since you were forced to be with her. This meant recently she was particularly irritable considering she couldn’t find a lot- if any- women to relieve any of her tension, so patrolling with her for the past 30 days has been hell.

On a more positive note it made gossiping with your coworkers over coffee the best part of your day. They would talk about their hookups which would inevitably lead back to shit talking Williams- which you would enthusiastically participate in considering how she treated you on the job. However they all agreed that they tolerated it for as long as they did because the sex was good. And you believed them because they had to put up with some crazy bullshit from her. A tiny part of you yearned for them to explain just how good it was, but you’d never ever give in to that curiosity.

Williams- on the rare occasion she would say anything- was mean, she would make snide comments all the time no matter what task you were taking on. She had some sort of superiority complex because she was- admittedly- very good at her job. She had transferred from some big city to your small town station and she had much more experience. She was incredibly skilled at taking people down when she needed to. However, compared to her old job, barely anything happens here. When something did happen she would insist on taking over the task almost every single time, the only thing she couldn’t trump you in was de-escalation. She was terrible at communication and that was most of the job. Calls would mostly be noise complaints or welfare checks, so you took the lead for those and it drove her crazy. She couldn’t stand being inferior to anyone, especially on the job. So you were squabbling constantly.

And for some reason tonight she was in a particularly bad mood. You’re stationed on the side of the road, keeping watch for anyone disobeying any road safety laws and Williams is silent. Not particularly unusual, but her body language was odd, she was weirdly tense. She sat fidgeting with her hands, picking at her cuticles, occasionally glancing up if she heard a car. Nothing in you wanted to show you cared at all for her, because you didn’t, but at this point you were so bored you didn’t care if you started one of your usual squabbles.

“Something wrong Williams?” You tentatively ask.

“ ‘m fine, just tired.” she says, still not glancing up.

“You seem offly tense for a tired person.” You try to push her a bit.

She finally looks up at you, her expression remaining neutral “Considering your observations, you really think now’s a good time to test me sweetheart?” God you hated when she called you that, she refused to refer to you by your last name, always resorting to some condescending nickname.

You roll your eyes, just as you were about to respond a staticky voice interrupts, asking for anyone available for a call about a noise complaint about two minutes away. Ellie picks up the walkie and calls in saying she could take it and starts the car.

You drive there in silence and to no one’s surprise it’s Mrs. Taylor. She frequently calls at night whenever she hears her teenage neighbors so much as talk loud enough for her to hear. And every time she would make you both walk over to them and ask them to quiet down.

This time though when you got out of the car you could hear muffled music coming from the neighbor’s all the way from Mrs. Taylor’s lawn. You walk up to her door, Williams following silently, and knock gently a couple of times. You hear soft shuffling, a lock clicking and then the door opens revealing the grumpy old woman’s tired face. She’s wearing a long dusty pink robe, striped pajama pants and ratty slippers, clearly she had been recently woken up by the noise.

“Hello Mrs. Taylor.” You smile politely.

“Hello dear.” She smiles back at you, but falters for a moment when she spots your partner, refusing to acknowledge her presence. She used to babysit all the kids in the neighborhood, you were always her favorite. She treated everyone else like they were some sort of pest, especially outsiders.

“Neighbors bothering you again?” You already knew the answer, but you felt the need to be polite.

“I can’t sleep with all that ruckus, rotten children they are. Too bad too, they used to be the sweetest when they were little.” She shook her head.

“Alright we’ll get it all sorted out, you can go back to bed.” You nod your head.

The old woman smiles before reaching forward and pinching your cheek while saying “You’re so good to me dear. Come over for dinner some time so I can make it up to you.”

“Just doing my job ma'am.” You reassure her.

“Well, goodnight. Call me tomorrow morning and we’ll sort something out.” She begins shuffling backwards, and grabs the door handle.

“Good night Mrs. Taylor.” You wave at her and she closes the door.

“God you’re unbelievable.” Ellie scoffs from behind you.

“What?” you turn around to face her.

“Would it kill you to be nice to me like that once in a while?” For the life of you you could not figure out where this was coming from.

“You have to earn it.” You retort, while beginning to walk to the neighbors house. Ellie just huffs and jogs a bit to catch up to you, god forbid you get ahead of her in any way.

You make your way to the house, the bass rattling your teeth by the time you're on the front stoop. Ellie takes her usual spot behind you and you knock loudly, bashing your fist against the door. Hopefully someone hears so you don’t have to make a scene, they weren’t bad kids. Sure enough the music turns off and the door opens slowly revealing a set of scared, round eyes.

“Hey Kelly.” You knew her well from the past complaints, she was pretty polite especially for a teenager. The poor girl was practically shaking. “You probably know why we’re here.” She nods slowly. “Ok, so just do us a favor and turn your music down so we don’t get another call from Mrs. Taylor alright?” you say gently, knowing when you’re in uniform everything about you was intimidating enough without you having to yell.

“Th-that’s it?” She asks, her whole body shaking with adrenaline at this point.

“Yup, just make sure this doesn’t happen again. Shouldn’t have the volume that high anyway, it’s bad for your hearing.” You smile, “Probably don’t want to go deaf by the time you’re 20.”

Kelly just nods again “O-ok thank you. We’ll keep it down, promise.”

“Alright have a good night, stay out of trouble.” You turn away and Ellie does the same.

The walk back to the car is silent except for the steady hum of cicadas. You’re about to put your seatbelt on when Ellie says “So what do I have to do?”

You pause your movements, “What?”

“What do I have to do to earn it?” When you still look confused she elaborates “You being nice to me. What do I have to do to earn that?”

“I don’t know. With the way you treat me it’s almost like you enjoy me being mean to you.” You let out a dry laugh.

She slowly leans towards you, “Oh, I do.” She says, her tone changing completely, her voice becomes raspy and deep, almost like a whisper and a smirk tugs at her lips. “I love making you mad, but something tells me you’re even more delightful when you’re all sweet like that.”

“Williams what-” She leans even closer, inches away from your face and suddenly you forgot everything that wasn’t Ellie. You couldn’t utter a word if you tried.

“Tell me.” Her eyes flicker from yours to your lips. “What.” Her lips are so close you can almost feel her words. “To do.” You let out a sigh and give in, abandoning all logic you press your lips against hers. She stiffens but then her hands automatically move to cup your jaw so she can deepen the kiss. Her tongue swipes across your lips, inviting them to open. You can’t really move, unable to completely process what’s happening. She’s so warm and soft and everything you didn’t expect.

She starts making her way down to your neck, exploring your reactions as she kisses and sucks at the sensitive skin. A small whimper escapes from your lips, and Ellie is sure she’s never heard something more intoxicating.

“Williams-” She finds a particular spot behind your ear that causes you to let out a quiet moan, making you forget how to speak for a moment.

“W-we can’t do this here, you know that.” She stops and moves her head to meet your gaze.

“You’re right, we should probably find someplace where we don’t run the risk of teenagers or Mrs. Taylor finding us.” That wasn’t what you meant but it was probably the first time she had ever agreed with you the entire time you’ve been partners.

She pulls off the road into a field and as soon as she parks she immediately starts where she left off. Somehow she knew exactly how to reduce you to a whimpering mess in mere moments. In between kisses she whispers “Take off your belt.” Her tone was so sure and dominant it sent a wave of arousal straight to your center. You do as she says, you forgot you had put on your utility belt for the call, but she clearly took note. You try not to move too much as she continues marking up your skin. She stops again, “Now get in the back.” She doesn’t wait for your response before taking her own utility belt off, leaving it in the front seat and opening her door. It was a little more work in a patrol car considering there were bars separating the front and backseat, but at this point neither of you cared much.

Ellie is first to sit down in the back and shut the door behind her, you do the same and crawl over to straddle her lap. “You feelin a little eager, sweetheart?” She looks at you with that obnoxious smirk on her face, but this time it didn’t annoy you as much as it usually did. You kiss the grin off her face before moving to her neck, listening to her little sighs and moans as you press your lips to her soft skin. The noises she’s making send arousal straight to your aching center and you begin to grind down on her lap, desperate for some kind of relief. She starts taking off your belt with trembling, eager fingers and throws it off to the side. You reach for hers as she untucks your shirt and begins unbuttoning it as quickly as she could, leaving you in your tank top. Your lips meet hers and the kisses grow hungrier by the second, each of you becoming more and more eager to undress the other.

As you begin to unfasten Ellie’s shirt she sighs in frustration, “Jesus christ all these fucking layers are driving me crazy.”

You laugh and say in between kisses, “Gotta make you work for it Williams.” With that she rips off your tank top, and immediately begins groping your breasts over your bra. You moan into her mouth and begin to grind down onto her even harder. Ellie notices and spreads her legs a bit, moving your leg in between hers so you were straddling her thigh. Relief rushes through you as you lower down onto her muscular thigh and begin moving your hips back and forth. She reaches behind you to unclasp your bra leaving your top half bare for her. She can’t resist breaking the kiss to move her focus to your chest, taking your nipple in her mouth with a satisfied hum. A soft whine escapes your lips as her warm tongue circles your sensitive nipples. Her hands have a steady hold on your hips, encouraging you to move against her thigh, harder and faster. Yours have found a home in her hair, tugging harder and harder as your pleasure builds on itself causing Ellie to groan as arousal begins to pool in her boxers.

“Get up.” Ellie commands in a hoarse whisper that sends butterflies straight to your cunt. You climb off her and lean against the car door. The sight of you in the dim moonlight, topless with spread legs and unzipped pants, a fucked out expression on your face almost has Ellie coming right then and there. She unties your shoes and gently removes them, before grabbing the hem of your pants and tugging them down in one swift motion. She crawls between your legs and wraps her arms around each of your thighs, gently kissing a path to your dripping cunt. A wet spot had formed on your panties causing your face to become hot from embarrassment, but Ellie seemed to have a different reaction “God you’re so beautiful, it’s driving me crazy.” She begins teasing you over the fabric of your underwear, running her fingers up and down your slit. A whimper escapes your lips as a silent plea for more, but she continues teasing. She finally pulls the fabric of your underwear to the side and takes a moment before gently blowing on your soaked folds.

“Please-” you manage to whimper as the cool air from Ellie’s lips hits your warm center sending a pleasurable shock through you. You would expect for her to make you beg for it, but she immediately obliged, licking a line from your dripping entrance to your clit. You gasp and grip on to her hair, searching for anything to hold on to as pleasure overwhelms every one of your senses. Ellie groans at the feeling as she begins gently licking at your clit, teasing you. The sound sends vibrations through your lower body and you moan at the feeling, now losing any control you had over the volume of your voice. She begins moving her tongue in circles over your sensitive bud as she teases your entrance with a slender finger. You let out the loudest moan yet, encouraging Ellie to plunge her finger further inside you. It slides in easily, arousal practically coating your thighs at this point. Suddenly she hits the spot causing a desperate whiny “Oh fuck,” To escape from your swollen lips as you clench lightly around her finger. She adds a second, the feeling of her two fingers causes a satisfying amount of pressure to fill your cunt. She hits a spot that you swear sends white light through your closed eyes and keeps hitting it with every rough, slow thrust of her fingers. Your hips begin to move, trying to get her to fuck you harder but she only pins your down by your waist with her free hand forcing you to endure her painful pace. “Ellie,” you whine, “please- I-“ you cut yourself off with a moan.

“What do you need sweetheart?” She pauses briefly to look at your fucked out expression and your arousal has dropped all the down her chin. The very sight almost does you in.

“Please,” you beg her in hopes she’ll spare you the humiliation of asking her.

“Mm mm,” she lightly shakes her head “words baby.” That was a much better nickname, the way she said baby made your cunt flutter around her fingers

“P-please-” you sigh before finishing “-fuck me harder pleasee.” You think that’s probably the most pathetic you’ll ever sound but Ellie obeys. She sucks your puffy clit into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the hypersensitive nub before moving her fingers faster. She picks up speed until you can’t think about anything but Ellie’s mouth and fingers. The pace was practically inhuman, you tilt your head back as a silent scream rips it’s way through you before you moan “fffuuckk,” in a high pitched tone. She continues moving her hands rapidly in and out of you curling them at just the right angle. You begin to flutter around her fingers and she knew you were close.

“Almost there baby?” All you can do in response in moan, she has you practically incapacitated. She giggled a little “Good, come for me.” As her words reached your ears your pleasure finally hit it’s peak. You begin writing against Ellie’s fingers as you roughly clench down on them. Your pleasure rips through you in overwhelming waves, moans uncontrollably leaving your lips as Ellie’s fingers continue their brutal pace. She doesn’t let up though, she keeps going as your clit grows more and more sensitive. You tug at her hair but she doesn’t move, she continues as your hips begin bucking against her arm that was pinning you down.

“Ellie it’s too much I can’t-”

“You can take one more can’t you sweetheart?” She asks sweetly as she fucks your sensitive hole with no mercy. You just nod and she continues sucking and licking at your clit, occasionally moaning which only enhanced the overwhelming pleasure. This time you were more tightly wound up and faster. It didn’t take long before you approached the edge again, the feeling twice as intense. You almost worry as it begins to build and build, just as you thought you had reached your peak it kept going. You finally topple over the edge as Ellie’s teeth lightly graze your clit, the feeling sending you into overdrive. You tugs Ellie’s hair harder than you ever had before as you make a mess all over the seats and Ellie’s mouth and fingers. She laps it all up contently, actually backing down when you pushed her away this time. She leans back into her knees and tries to catch her breath.

A smirk grows on your face as you begin leaning towards her, “it’s your turn.”

—

Idrk how I feel about this but at least I finished it 😀👍

Reblogs and notes are always appreciated and encouraged 💕‼️

Hopefully I will start updating more but I can’t really promise anything lmao

#ellie williams #the last of us 2 #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie smut #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n #cop! Ellie Williams

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