cry in both. impatiently staring the count down till the next episode was out. cry againg. want to punsh someone. why is life so unfair? I suport you girl. cry somemore. laugh. maybe drool a little cause everyone is so beautiful. cry againg. love it.
I really love it.
can't wait for next week. really. I'm not a patient person. I don't know what to do with my life now.
Sinopsis: For twenty one years, Yn lived a lie. Systematically poisoned by her mother to suppress her true nature, she was a dying Omega who believed she was nothing. Now, after a year of exhausting recovery under her father’s care, she finally feels stable.
Until one day at a Stray Kids event at her university brings her to her knees. Her Omega is finally waking up, and it has found its mate.
‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼
CW: abusive parent, a lot of health issues, depressive thoughts, trauma, emotional abuse. Yn goes to therapy and spends a lot of time in hospitals.
If I skipped any warnings pls let me know!!
< Prologue
----—--------—----—----—----—---—-
Chapter 1: Yn
It's unnerving how fast life can change in a second.
One second you are walking home after hanging out with your friends, the next you are packing your bags because your mother proclaims she found your father cheating on her.
You remember clearly arriving to your house, a smile on your face and lots of funny stories to tell to you mother, that you forgot the instant you saw her face.
Eyes red, tears streaming down her cheeks, hands moving frantically as she packed some clothes in a suitcase.
She looked broken.
And that alone made you believed everything she told you about your father.
After all, she was the one who took care of you every day of the week when he only was there on the weekends.
So you ran away with her, not knowing that things would only go down hill after that.
It's been years since that happened.
But it hunts you to this day.
The regret, the hurt, the sadness, the anger.
Sometime you remember things that your brain had made you forget.
Thing like the nights your body ache so much that sleep never reached you. How you felt tingle all over your face, like insects where walking there, never stopping no matter what you did.
You remember the look in her eyes, as if she really didn't knew what was happening to you. As if she wasn't the one causing all of it.
You wish you could forget it all againg.
It's been a year since the last time you saw her. Your mother.
The women who was supposed to protect you, but ended up being the only one hurting you.
One second you were opening your eyes to find yourself in a hospital bed, the next one you were living with your father and his mate, trying to fix all what was left broken inside of you.
Today waking up was hard. Your mind tired and screaming that there was no point in even trying.
Your therapist told you some days would be like this. Like you went ten step behind on the progress. She told you it was normal.
It didn't felt normal. It felt like there was something new wrong with you. Something that would never allow you to move on.
You stay there, in bed. Comfortable and warm covered under your blankets, but feeling cold and unsettled inside.
One though telling you to go back to sleep and forget everything. Another begging you to get up and try to do something with you life.
A second more starting at nothing and you reach for your cellphone.
It shows 8:00 am in the screen. The alarm you set at 7:00 starts to sound again, remembering you how you fail to wake up at the right time and now you are late for class.
Perfect.
Stay in bed or be responsible.
Hard decision to make.
Gladly you don't have to make it because someone is knocks at your door. Not hard and angry, actually calm and soft. But still is enough to make your heart raise and your body to move.
In an instant you are at your feet, walking to the door and opening it.
Your father is behind it. Soft features and eyes fill with love and worry. Stills feels weird to be look at like that, but it keeps warming up your heart every time.
You relax, smiling yourself at the men who spend six years of his life looking for you. Always loving you even when he didn't knew you anymore.
"hey princess" he still calls you the nickname he gave you when you were little.
"Hi dad" you said greatful for his presence.
Somewhere along this year of living with him, you had found out his presence calms you. It gives you a feeling of protection that you didn't knew existed.
"it's late. I can drive you if you are ready in about... 30 minutes"
"Please and thank you Dad" you open the door completely and side hug him when stepping out of your room "You are my saviour. I'll shower quickly then"
He nods and walks away, probably to help his wife with their five years old daughter, a.k.a, your sister that you had no idea existed until a year ago.
You shower as fast as humanly possible, mumbling songs that your friends had recommended you and you have come to love.
You don't even bother to do make up or dry your hair, looking at the time constantly just to make sure you weren't making your dad late.
While you are dressing up, your cellphone's screan lights up with a new notification.
Is from your friends group chat.
They are taking about one of the kpop groups they love; Stray Kids.
When you started collage in this new town, you met three girls who would ended up becoming your best friends:
Yujin, Kazuha and Bahiyyih.
It was like fate brought you guys together, and none of you tried to go against it.
It was instinct, they had told you once they knew about you past. Instincts told them it was right and it probably told you too.
Since then, there hasn't been a day of silence in the group chat.
If they weren't talking about college, they wera talking about idols.
It was fun and normal.
It make you feel... good.
As you read your friends excitement about Stray Kids preforming at school today, you start to feel the excitement too.
It would be the first time you see someone preform. And it was non other then one of the biggest kpop groups in the world.
You like their music, at least the one you knew, and they were stunning performers. It was definitely going to be amazing and suddenly the thoughts you had this morning didn't bother you anymore.
Your friends wanted to wear matching outfits, but looking at the time you send a quick text saying that it was late for you to change, so Yujin offer to take some clothes with her so you can wear.
With your mood completely change from how it was when you had just wake up, you go out of your room to say goodby to your stepmom and sister so yor father can ride you to school.
✧˖°.₊ ⊹✦
Time seems free to go slower when you want it to go faster, you realise as you walk down the corridor through a wave of students, looking at the time every minute just to realize the numbers one the screen hadn't change.
"Yn!!"
You hear your name being call and smile instantly as you recognise the voice. Is Hiyyih, the youngest of your group and a fellow Omega. Or something like that, since you are not sure if you can call yourself an Omega, at least not a complete one.
Yor three friend are there, waiting in front of a restroom door and already wearing matching white and pink outfits.
"Hiii!" you say excitedly once you are close, and can finally get a glimpse of their smell.
You hug them, and they return the hug.
Your doctor told you skin ship is really important to activate your omega gland againg. Something about pheromones and getting your brain use to the instincts that come with say pheromones.
That's why you take your time with each hug.
Hiyyih smells like vanilla, Yujin as dominant alpha has a stronger smell and you can only associate it with trees. Lastly, the only way you can explain Zuha's smell is clean. She is also an Alpha, but different from Yujin, she is a recessive one.
"I have your outfit" Yujin says once you had great them all.
She shakes her bag with a grin in her face that makes a dimple show, and you can't help the warm feeling that wraps around you like a blanket.
Yeah, this is what being young feels like.
"I hope it fits" you say entering the bathroom.
"oh don't worry Mimi, I'm sure it will fit"
For some reason, Yujin started calling you mimi after taking a French course.
You never questioned it.
"are you excited?" Zuha asks while Yujin starts to pull out clothes and hand it to you.
A white skirt and shirt, with a baby pink light crop vest. Cute.
"I'm so excited" you answer getting in one cubicle to change.
"Me too. This is basically a free concert!"
Hiyyih is definitely the most excited, you can tell by her voice and how she looks about to combust.
Zuha is the calmest, but you know deep down, behind that cool mask she likes to wear, she is jumping like the fangirl she is.
"I hope fans behave"
All of you hum in agreement with what Zuha just say.
Not even a week before you became friends, the girls had teach you all there is to know about kpop and how crazy fans could be. To the point of stalking the idols.
You were shock, after all they were people just doing their job, and even tho you had always like kpop, you never digg for more information than the members of the groups and maybe their birthdays.
You learned that artist were forced to take suppressant for their safety and they never revealed they subgender.
Most of them used smell bloquers and basically erased what they were when in public.
When you hear that, you felt a mix of emotions.
Sad for them because it was unfair that they had to do all those things to live their dreems. But you also felt understood. Less alone.
Maybe idols experience isn't even close to what you had to live, but they do understand what suppressing one's nature feels like.
While you dress, conversation keeps going and the girls make sure everything is perfect with their scent blockers.
Once all of you are ready, you exit the restroom giggling and talking like teenagers walking by their crush.
It felt like a movie in your opinion.
The weather was perfect. The sun shining in the clear sky, it's heat being appease by a cold breeze that run through the trees, making their leaves sound and some fruit flowers fall from them.
The turmoil in you head has settled for the moment, allowing you to fully enjoy this time with your friends and put your gurd down.
You were so relax that it was easy to brush of the tingling sensation you started to feel on your skin as the sound of music got louder.
From the distance you could see the members on the stage. It looked like they were interacting with the fans as the staff fixed something on the side.
Weird, you thought as you touch your neck at the sudden feeling of coldness in there.
You realize then, that you are not listening to your friends anymore. It feels like your ears have turn into parabolic mic's with their own will.
Every sound seems to have increased but when you try to register it and focouse just in one thing, the sound changes. As if looking for a specific sound in the crowd. It makes you dizzy.
Suddenly you are being push by people trying to get closer to the stage and is then when you notice that somehow you have walk to the crowd of people watching stray kids.
It starts to scare you how lost you feel. How out of control everything is, so you look for your friends.
They are beside you, at each side, but their eyes are on the stage.
It appears that Hyunjin is talking, or at least that's the voice you hear before your ears decide to hear random girl scream their love for the group.
It's starting to get blurry and the coldness you felt in your neck has spread through your torso and a stabbing pain appears in different places of your body that you can't even identify properly.
You are shivering and as you try to touch Yujins arms you become awer of the trembling in your body.
Breathing becomes a hard task and you don't know if it's because you are having a panic attack, or because your body feels heavier than normal.
Your hand lands heavy in Zuhas shoulder.
The smile and excitement in her eyes fade as she turns to look at you. In exchange a worried, almost panicked look land's on your face.
She says something, maybe your name, but you can't hear it through the shuffle of voices going on.
Your knees buckle and Zuha catches you before you hit the ground.
You haven't fainted but it sure feels like you will.
The last thing you hear is a man voice tinted with concern and something achin to fear.
-----------------------------------------------
Note: hiii hope you are all okey.
Just wanted to say sorry for the waiting a lot has happened and time was not in my side.
Also I'm not really proud of this chapter cause I really like to explore characters and their personalitys but at the same time I know most people don't care about those. So this is a mix of me enjoying writing about the characters and their dinamics and me trying to get the fastest way possible to the Minho x yn moments.
Anyway, hope you like it, if not then it's okey, ill try better.
Sinopsis: For twenty one years, Yn lived a lie. Systematically poisoned by her mother to suppress her true nature, she was a dying Omega who believed she was nothing. Now, after a year of exhausting recovery under her father’s care, she finally feels stable.
Until one day at a Stray Kids event at her university brings her to her knees. Her Omega is finally waking up, and it has found its mate.
‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼
CW: abusive parent, a lot of health issues, depressive thoughts, trauma, emotional abuse. Yn goes to therapy and spends a lot of time in hospitals.
If I skipped any warnings pls let me know!!
‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼
Prologue
[transcription down below]
Woman Arrested for Systematically Poisoning Daughter with Illegal Suppressants
By Patch Dis
A 21 year old woman is in critical but stable condition today after being rescued from what prosecutors are calling a "biological prison" disguised as a mother’s care. The victim, referred to in court documents as "Ana Doe," was admitted to the Intensive Care Unit after collapsing at a local residence. Medical staff were reportedly horrified to discover the young woman, who believed herself to be a null suffering from chronic illness, was actually an Omega whose biological nature had been suppressed via illegal chemical means for over four years.
"We found traces of Prohibitin-7 and industrial-grade blockers in her marrow," said Dr. Elena Aris, Chief of Glandular Health. "This wasn't a one-time dose. This was a systematic, daily administration of toxins designed to mimic null status. For four years, this woman’s body has been trying to present as an Omega, and for four years, those biological signals were met with a chemical wall. Her system wasn't just suppressed; it was being strangled."
The suspect, a 52 years old woman, was arrested on site. Charges include Aggravated Medical Battery and Biological Identity Theft. Authorities have issued a strict Privacy Mandate regarding the survivor's identity, citing the sensitive nature of her secondary gender and the ongoing investigation into her family history.
As of this morning, the victim remains in a medically induced coma. Legal representatives for the biological father, a local Alpha who has reportedly spent sixteen years searching for his daughter, have arrived at the hospital.
While the legal battle begins, the medical one is just starting.
❥•၊၊||၊|။ㆍ𖹭ㆍ||||။၊|။•
Note: hello, this is my first time writing for stray kids!! And first of all, I know the plot is heavy but don't take it too seriously. In the sense that my way of coping with trauma is humor so this will probably end up being more silly than anything.
With all that said, thank you for reading this!! This is just the start. The story will be a mix of smau with written parts and I will be doing wherever I want cause otherwise I'll never finish this.
I would work in the aesthetic and introduction of the story later cause I'm lazy and busy with university and health issues, but trust me, something will be posted.
I'm looking for some Levi Ackerman x reader fic (one-shot, full books, short story wherever really) that is set in the world of the show!! Like, I want it to have the titans, follow the trama. I want the angst of the show but with the new emotion that will give levi loving someone.
So if you know something like this, doesn't matter the platform (aot3, wattpad, Tumblr, etc) I would very much appreciate if you could recommend it to me <3.
Feel free to talk to me, conment or reblog, just pls help this fellow levi ackerman lover.
Sukuna shows up at your place so drunk that it’s like he genuinely doesn’t remember you broke up two months ago. He keeps calling you “his girlfriend” and can’t understand why he can’t fuck his girlfriend.
CW/TW: unwanted touching :: DV :: asshole!Sukuna ✦ wc : 4k
Part 2: here
You’re lying on your side, staring holes into the ceiling, and you can feel the night’s silence pressing against your eardrums like a thick, sticky hum. The insomnia of the past few days wraps around your thoughts, and the exhaustion from university classes and night shifts at the café sits heavy on your shoulders.
Cool air drifts in through the cracked-open window, smelling like distant rain and asphalt, and against the deep navy sky, a few rare stars flicker. You’re pissed. At yourself. At this never-ending loop of thoughts. At the way your body refuses to let you fall asleep...
When a sharp, slicing doorbell suddenly cuts through the silence.
You flinch.
Your heart stops for a second, then starts hammering again in an uneven, anxious rhythm. You reach for your phone on the nightstand, and your chest tightens with a dull, familiar ache when your eyes catch the time: past two in the morning.
Then your gaze slides to the phone wallpaper, dark and blank.
It used to be a photo of you and Sukuna. You were laughing, and he was squinting slightly, looking somewhere past the camera with that eternal, almost arrogant calm on his face.
But you broke up.
Two months ago...
The knocking comes again, harsh and insistent, and then someone kicks the door hard. A dull, terrifying thud that makes the walls shudder. If Sukuna were here… if you were still together… you wouldn’t be this scared. But he’s not. And you’re alone.
Anger, sharp and instant, cuts right through the exhaustion.
You get up. Bare feet slap against the cold floor. You walk to the door, press your temple against it, listening.
Another kick. And then you hear a man’s voice. Low, rough, drunk and messy, but so familiar it makes your skin crawl.
“Hey… open up… shit… did you fall asleep?”
And your name, yelled like he hates it and wants it at the same time. Something inside you goes ice-cold. Your first instinct is to scream through the door and tell Sukuna to go to hell.
Another kick. Then a muffled laugh.
“Open the fucking door…”
He’s drunk?
Your second thought is the neighbors. The old lady upstairs. Her calling the cops. You exhale hard, fingers tightening around the handle, and you yank the door open, ready to slam it shut again immediately.
Sukuna is standing there, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. He can barely stay upright, and his nearly two-meter height doesn’t look intimidating right now. It looks unstable. His peach-colored hair, usually spiked up in sharp strands, is a mess, sticking out everywhere, clumped and dirty like he’s dragged his hands through it a hundred times. He’s wearing a tight black t-shirt stretched over his chest, broad shoulders and torso, stained with dark, unclear spots. Dirt. Spilled beer. Maybe blood… if he smashed someone’s face in again.
You always hated his aggression.
Sukuna stares down at his scuffed boots for a couple seconds, then slowly, with effort, lifts his head when he realizes the door is open. His gaze is blurred, drowned in alcohol, drifting for a long moment before it finally focuses on you. And on his slightly parted lips, a wide, drunk, painfully familiar triumphant grin spreads.
Found you.
It scares you so badly your knees tremble.
Why is he here? To talk?
Sukuna never knew how to do that.
“Well, finally,” he rasps, and his breath, heavy and sweet-bitter with booze, makes you recoil.
You grimace, trying to shut the door, but he already collapses forward with all the weight of his heavy body and you, like an idiot, catch him. You’ve never seen him like this. This drunk. Alcohol rarely hit him like this. Sukuna always kept control, even when his eyes went glassy.
Now he’s disheveled, heavy, and stupid.
He stumbles into the hallway, and you instinctively brace your shoulder so he doesn’t crash onto the floor. You regret it immediately when your joints pop. His weight is muscular, solid, unexpectedly warm. And Sukuna instantly presses you against the wall, making you gasp from the force.
Something inside you turns cold from the sudden closeness, from the smell of sweat mixed with alcohol and that expensive cologne you once picked out and gave him for your anniversary. Something twists painfully inside your chest. And somewhere deep down, traitorous and quiet, something warm and familiar stirs…
“M… so tired,” he mumbles, burying his face into your neck. A hot, damp breath burns your skin. His lips drag along your jawline. “Came to my girl…”
You press your palms against his chest, trying to push him away, and your voice comes out strained.
“Sukuna, you… what are you doing here?”
You try to wriggle out from under him. Sukuna pulls back just slightly, staring down at you with a frown, because you always used to call him just “Kuna.” You cautiously lift your gaze to his face…
You don’t know what to expect from him. Not now. His height always overwhelmed you, but in a good way. You used to feel protected. Hidden. Safe.
Now it’s just a threatening physical difference. But Sukuna’s expression is pure, genuine confusion.
“I came home. Dumbass. To you.” He says it like it’s obvious, like there’s no argument to be had. His hand drops heavy on the back of your head, his thumb brushing along your jaw. That familiar possessive gesture.
You freeze. Did he… forget? Did his drunk haze erase the last two months? You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish you could forget too. You swallow the lump in your throat. Anger and something aching, pathetic, like the butterflies that used to flutter in your stomach when he looked at you…
Sukuna was always like this.
“Leave,” you say, firmer than you feel. “Right now.”
But Sukuna doesn’t seem to hear you. Or maybe he decides you’re just mad because he came home late. His gaze slides lower, catching on your shorts, and that lazy, pleased look spreads across his face.
“Dressed up for me, huh?” he rasps, voice thick with drunken purring.
“Asshole,” flashes through your mind.
But your hands move on their own. You shove him toward the hallway, toward your bedroom. Toward his bedroom. Toward your bedroom. One thought only: get your dead drunk ex onto the bed, call Toji, make him come pick up this wasted idiot.
And Sukuna follows obediently, clumsy, leaning on you with his arm thrown over your shoulder. His fingers dig into your muscles, and just the thought of him grabbing your chest like he used to makes your stomach twist.
The room smells like you. Books and dust. His scent faded from here two weeks after the breakup. And maybe that’s why Sukuna’s lips twitch in confusion as he looks around, trying to figure out what’s wrong, what’s changed. He doesn’t remember he hasn’t been here in two months.
You guide him to the edge of the bed, and he drops down heavily onto the mattress, making the springs squeal. He flops onto his side, and your eyes slide along the line of his back beneath his damp shirt, the familiar shape of his shoulders you used to kiss.
You hate yourself for it.
You climb onto the bed with one knee and reach for your phone lying in the middle of the blanket. But Sukuna moves faster. Long fingers, veins standing out, black tattoo markings wrapping his wrists. He snatches your phone first, his grip crushing the black case like it might crack. Sukuna manages to pull you in by the shoulders with his other arm, and you feel his body tense instantly, like he’s about to fight…
“What…” he mutters, jabbing at the screen. His brows knit. “Why… where am I?.. No… where are we?..”
You try to grab the phone back, but he shoves you forward with drunk, misjudged strength. Not cruel, more impatient and annoyed, but it’s too much for you. You lose your balance and fall onto the bed. The mattress catches you with a dull thump. Air punches out of your lungs.
You gasp, pushing your hair off your forehead, lying there, and in your chest something familiar sparks, bright and furious. A mix of rage and old attraction you thought you’d buried. You remind yourself fast who Sukuna Ryomen is and why you’re not together anymore.
He was always stronger. Always able to pin you down, ignore your protests. And before, in that haze of passion, you liked it. You liked feeling conquered when he pushed you into the pillows, covering you completely, driving his cock into your pussy, thrusting and growling into your ear until the world narrowed down to his breath and your own voice breaking into moans. Now that memory sends chills across your skin, from shame and something else.
Sukuna was always stronger.
The memory makes your skin prickle. You shake your head, forcing yourself back into reality, and search for him with your eyes. Sukuna stands frozen at the foot of the bed, your phone still in his hand. The screen lights his face from below, carving harsh, dangerous shadows under his cheekbones, in the corners of his mouth, along his neck.
“You… why’d you change the wallpaper?” His voice is low, annoyed, almost whiny. He keeps tapping the screen with his thumb, trying to unlock it. “What the hell… You changed the password? Our password… the day we…”
He cuts off, unable to remember the date. And you’re lying there, not knowing what to say. How do you explain that it’s over?
Sukuna was always such a bastard.
“Why?”
Sukuna lifts his gaze to you, confused. In his blurred pupils, disbelief flickers. He’s waiting for an explanation. And you’re lying there in shock, not knowing what to tell him.
Sukuna was always a bastard.
Mean, sharp, jealous to the point of obsession, and rough in a way he called “honesty.” He could pick a fight with your friend just because the guy hugged you when you met. “You’re my girlfriend,” he’d growl later, pulling you into him so hard it left bruises, and you, stupid, used to think that was love. He never told you he loved you. And at the same time, he let other girls hang off him in clubs, not encouraging it, but not pushing them away either.
Because he didn’t care.
He always said: they did it themselves.
They were the ones leaving hickeys and lipstick on his neck.
They were the ones crawling into his pants...
His indifference always hurt more than active flirting. And that, that blind, egocentric irresponsibility, is why you broke up. And you thought you’d almost erased that bitter aftertaste from your memory, that itch at the roof of your mouth. The intoxicating shadow of his superiority.
Before you can gather yourself and scream the truth at him, Sukuna suddenly, irritated, throws your phone into the corner. The sound of plastic smacking against the wall cracks through the silence, dry and painful.
You tense up in fear, staring at it.
Is he mad? Like, actually mad?
You look back and freeze, watching Sukuna yank his black t-shirt over his head with force, fabric tearing with an angry rustle. His movements are clumsy, drunk. In the dim light, the ink-black patterns of his tattoos stand out on his skin: rings around his shoulders, stripes low on his stomach, the intricate design on his ribs you once could’ve traced with your lips with your eyes closed.
Your chest tightens so hard you can’t breathe. Treacherous heat pools low in your stomach. Your body still hasn’t forgotten him.
But the sound of his jeans zipper sliding down snaps you back into reality.
“Stop! Sukuna, don’t!” it tears out of you, almost like a plea.
You jerk backward, trying to crawl toward the headboard, but the sheet tangles around your legs. Sukuna laughs, low and hoarse.
“C’mere, my girl.”
The sound is deep and vibrating, sending chills down your spine. His voice used to drive you insane. Now it just scares you.
A swarm of butterflies in your stomach, hateful and unwanted.
Sukuna climbs onto the bed on one knee, deciding not to pull his jeans off yet, moves closer, and grabs your ankle. Easily, like it takes no effort at all, he drags you back toward him, back to the center of the bed, to his legs. You slide across the blanket, letting out a helpless squeak.
He always did this.
Always.
“Let go!” you panic, shoving his chest with your palm. Your fingers press into the familiar hardness of his shoulder. “What the fuck?! Get off me! Don’t touch me! Get out, I’m serious!”
Sukuna frowns harder, annoyed. His brows are pulled together, jaw tense, the muscle in his cheek twitching. He doesn’t let go of your leg. His thumb starts rubbing the bone of your ankle. An unconscious, familiar soothing gesture he used to do when you were stressed before exams.
“What the fuck is your problem? What happened?!” he snaps.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” you almost scream. Tears sting your eyes.
“…I came to my girlfriend,” Sukuna says, baffled, and keeps mumbling incoherently. “Missed fucking. Missed you, huh? Why you… why are you yelling at me? What’s wrong?.. Don’t get it…”
Sukuna leans closer, and his shadow covers you completely, and you can barely breathe.
“I’M NOT your girlfriend!” you scream. “We broke up! Two months ago! What, did you get hit in the head and forget?! We’re not together anymore!”
Sukuna stares at you, and it’s like your words only reach him minutes later. He blinks slowly, processing. And he ignores the point, latching onto something else, something he thinks must be the reason for your “hysterics.”
“I… didn’t fuck anyone today,” he mumbles. His tone sounds hurt. Defensive. He shifts higher, his knee pressing into the mattress between your legs, and you inhale sharply, fingers clenching the sheets. “Didn’t cheat on you, baby. Didn’t even look at them. Why you jealous, idiot…”
“I’m not jealous! You don’t get it, dumbass! You’re drunk and stupid! Get off me!”
“No one…”
Sukuna ignores your protests, dropping his gaze to his hands braced on the mattress on either side of your waist. He looks like he’s talking to himself, trying to piece his thoughts together. His voice grows quieter, more lost, and suddenly there’s insecurity in it, something you’ve never heard from him before.
“Haven’t fucked anyone for… for two months… since my… girlfriend… left me?”
The last part sounds like an unsure question, like he’s not even certain he understood it right. Your breath catches. He said he… hasn’t fucked anyone for two months? For Sukuna, the eternal “womanizer” he used to call himself, two months of complete abstinence is basically eternity. And you don’t believe it.
The first couple weeks after the breakup, you had nightmares about him fucking other girls. And this quiet, drunk confession that slips out against his will knocks the ground out from under you.
Why would he?..
Sukuna frowns harder, bares his teeth slightly, and now his gaze, still blurry but sharper, locks onto you. There’s real, almost childish confusion in it, and a kind of vulnerability he’d never show sober. His body hovering over you suddenly feels less threatening and more… scared?
“We’re not… together anymore?” he mutters.
His hand finally lets go of your ankle, but now Sukuna touches your thigh carefully, like he doesn’t fully believe it yet and doesn’t know if you’re about to shove him away.
And you nod slowly, hoping it finally sinks in where he is and who he’s with.
“No, Sukuna. We’re not together. And that’s why we can’t have sex. Do you understand?”
But Sukuna unexpectedly moves even closer instead of backing off. His face is inches from yours. You see tiny golden flecks in his irises, red veins in the whites of his eyes, and your own reflection in his pupils.
His breath mixes with yours.
“Why?” he sounds offended. Almost hurt. His brows lift, lips pressing together slightly. “Why can’t we fuck? If I want you. If you’re… here. You’re my girlfriend.”
“Mine,” said with drunken but unshakable certainty. That’s his selfishness. His inability to let go. His hand on your thigh squeezes a little tighter. And you’re lying beneath him, just as lost and unsure of what happens next, because this drunk, confused bastard, your ex, is looking at you like you just took the most precious thing away from him.
And he doesn’t understand why.
His question, “why can’t we fuck?” is absurd.
If he wants it, then you can.
You always belonged to him.
You always loved his cock.
So why not now?
His breath, still reeking of whiskey and mixed beer, hits your face. You watch his dilated pupils narrow on your features, trying to read the answer in your clenched lips. His thumb starts moving slowly along your leg, tracing a line from your knee upward, toward your inner thigh. His touch is rough from his healed knuckles, but endlessly familiar.
Sukuna shifts closer with his whole body.
“Why?” he repeats. “You’re mine.”
“I’m not ‘yours,’” you whisper, losing your edge.
He’s too close, and he still refuses to accept that you’re not together, like he’s just putting that reality off for later. Like he always did.
“Sukuna, you’re drunk.”
“I wanna sleep…” he mutters. “Don’t wanna be alone.”
Sukuna leans even lower, his forehead almost touching yours. His eyes are hazy, but sparks dance in them. He takes an uncertain breath, presses into your neck, and you shiver with goosebumps.
“I wanna sleep on my pillow…”
Your heart is pounding.
He’s talking about your pillow. You still sleep on your side of the bed, and his side stays empty, but you never changed the pillows. It’s stupid, something you never let yourself think about…
“That’s not your pillow,” you try to sound harsh, but the words come out quiet.
“It’s so comfy,” he ignores you.
He always does.
His hand leaves your thigh and rises to your face. You freeze, expecting something rough, but his fingers barely brush your temple, sweeping a strand of hair away.
Surprisingly gentle.
“You’re so pretty, like…”
He furrows his brow, trying to find the words, and he looks so unlike his usual arrogant, rough self that a sharp wave of pity hits you again. He doesn’t find the right words. And it pisses him off. His brows knit, and that familiar aggression flashes in his eyes, then fades again into the alcohol haze.
“Can’t fuck,” he mumbles, repeating your words. “But… can I hug you?”
You open your mouth to say no, but you don’t get the chance. Sukuna doesn’t wait for an answer, or maybe he’s just too tired to wait, because he slowly collapses onto you with a low groan, dumping his full weight on you. His head drops heavy against your chest and higher, his nose pressing into the curve of your neck. Peach hair tickles your chin.
His arms wrap tight around your waist.
Sukuna presses into you. Big, hot… shaking?
“Kuna…” you try to protest, but he only hums, burying his face into your shirt.
“Quiet. Just… lay here. Like before. I… I feel so fucking bad without you,” his whisper is muffled.
His heart is beating somewhere under your chest, fast and uneven. You feel how tense the muscles in his back are beneath your hands, hands you don’t even realize you placed on his shoulders. You stroke him slowly, over the familiar curve of his shoulder blades, down his spine. And he lets out a quiet sound, half-growl, half-satisfied purr.
The smell of his cologne and shampoo, alcohol and tobacco, the sound of his voice, the warmth of his body… it all forms a dangerous, deceptive picture of “like before.” You close your eyes, bright spots blooming behind your eyelids. Sukuna starts babbling, mumbling incoherently into you, pressed against you, his hips against yours, clinging to you from every side as he rubs his head against your chest.
“…those dumb bitches keep crawling all over me… like flies… sick of it… told them to fuck off… I have…” he suddenly goes quiet. His fingers spasm around the fabric of your shirt at your waist, under your ribs, tugging. “But you’re not here. I called, but you… phone… won’t pick up. You changed your number, yeah? And your phone password…”
He shifts again, restless.
“Why’d you leave? I… I didn’t do anything. I didn’t have sex with anyone after you. I swear. I need… only you, baby…”
You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling. His words, those drunk, broken confessions… Sukuna doesn’t understand the point. To him, “didn’t do anything” means he didn’t flirt, didn’t kiss, didn’t sleep with anyone else. But his indifference, his disregard for your feelings, his blindness, don’t count to him. That’s not “something.” That just doesn’t exist in his world.
“You didn’t look. You didn’t see me,” you sound exhausted.
Sukuna lifts his head slightly, looking up at you. His eyes seem wide now with confusion. Reflections shimmer in them. And you.
“I saw you. You’re the prettiest… the prettiest. Everyone knows…”
It’s not it. Not even close. But in his drunk, sincere admiration, there’s a drop of the warmth you always starved for.
“Just sleep.”
“Why did you leave me, baby?” he asks vulnerably, tearing you apart.
You don’t answer. You just keep stroking his back slowly, over the familiar tattoos, feeling the tension under your fingers gradually start to melt away.
His breathing deepens, evens out. Your eyelids grow heavy. You bury your fingers into his peach hair, and tears gather in your eyes. You stare into the dark, feeling his body slowly go slack as he drifts into sleep.
Sukuna is here.
Drunk, lost, not remembering, not accepting that you broke up. He’s sleeping on top of you and for some reason, you can’t push him off. Not now. Not when he’s… like this. Drunk, needy like you used to be, clinging to you like you’re something he still, in his drunken head, thinks belongs to him.
You close your eyes and realize your insomnia is finally starting to fade…
Part 2: here
Do not repost, copy, plagiarize, translate, or feed my work into AI in any form!) English is not my first language, so yes, my writing might not be perfect.(
This is my first JJK work here, so please....
Summary: Sentry wakes you up one night to a heated make out session and the both of you end up discovering that he can use his powers for things other than fighting.
Kink of the Day: Coming Untouched and Squirting
Warnings: Somnophilia (Sentry wakes reader up by peppering kisses on them), Sentry uses his powers on the reader, Squiriting, Bodily Fluid Mentionings, Dirty Talk, Sentry gives off Soft!Dom! Vibes here, Reader gets a little nervous during the sexual act, Intimate Touching, Sentry is desperate.
Author’s Note: Day two complete. These little blurbs are literally my little writing exercises to expand my smut writing experience and I’m so glad I can release them to y’all!! It was so odd writing this though and I’m a little iffy with it but I hope y’all enjoy! (I went over the word count limit lol)
Word Count: 2,973
Tag List: @shipping-ppl-ugh, @cammiwu , @xx-nobrain-xx , @treebabe , @kehelsi
You woke to the brush of lips against your cheek, soft at first, almost barely there even. At first you thought it was just a dream–your mind conjuring him because it had been too long. But then the kisses didn’t stop. They grew bolder and hotter, trailing from the curve of your jaw to the corner of your mouth, insistent on getting closer. The warmth of his breath fanned against your skin, ragged, hungry, and absolutely real and alive.
Your lashes fluttered open just as his mouth finally caught yours in a kiss that stole air from your lungs before you could even gasp. He kissed you like a man who had been starved of touch for his entire life–lips parting with his tongue coaxing yours into a dizzying rhythm that made your stomach lurch with longing.
When he finally pulled back for a breath, his forehead pressed to yours, your eyes fluttered open, and you saw him–really saw him. His chest was heaving, and his light brown hair was falling in loose strands across his brow, damp already from the heat that was radiating off him. What gave it away though were his eyes…
Golden and luminous, like molten sunlight was poured into his irises, the divinity of his power coursing through them with little embers of orange sparkling in the haze.
”I couldn’t wait till morning…” He whispered, voice hushed and raw, with every syllable heavy with craving, as it sunk within your ears and vibrated in your chest. There was this wave of instant relief when you heard him, knowing that he finally came back…That finally after weeks of him not surfacing he finally came up for air.
A soft moan slipped from you before you could stop it, as your hands lifted instinctively to cradle his face, feeling the warmth of his skin kissing your palms. Your fingers ran over the hard line of his jaw, feeling the stubble rasping against your touch, down the flushed column of his throat. He chased your touch like it was the first thing he truly felt in weeks–and you knew it was.
”Sentry…” You breathed, your lips parting on his name, equal parts relief and awe. His response was a broken sound–half groan, half sigh–before his mouth returned to yours with brutal, unrestrained need.
The kiss was wild, messy, all teeth and tongue and gasps. He kissed you like he was trying to drink you in, to consume every ounce of you. You clutched at his shoulders, your nails dragging down the planes of his back through his shirt, urging him closer and closer until there was nothing but heat and the frantic press of lips.
”God…I missed you.” He mumbled into your mouth, his voice ragged and breaking.
”Then shut up and kiss me harder,” You teased, tugging at his hair, desperate to feel his lips against yours again–to feel the hunger and lust that fuelled him every time he kissed you.
There was always something different about the way Sentry kissed you, something primal and reckless that you missed when Bob was in control. Bob’s kisses were patient, and tender, they left you feeling cherished. But Sentry–Sentry kissed you like he wanted to tear you apart and stitch you back together with his lips, like every second his mouth wasn’t on you was a second wasted. It was wild and consuming, and messy, and addicting, and you had spent weeks aching for it without realizing just how badly until now.
The moment his mouth crashed back onto yours, the hunger hit you like a wave. His teeth grazed your bottom lip before he nipped it, his tongue sliding against yours in deep, desperate strokes. You moaned into his mouth, the sound swallowed between you, and you felt his answering growl rumble against your chest where his body pressed flush to yours.
One of his hands roamed restlessly, sliding from the curve of your waist down over your hip, then gripping your thigh with enough force to make you gasp. He hauled your leg up over his torso, his fingers digging possessively into the muscle, and you clung to him instantly, tightening around him to attach yourself to his heat. The sheets tangled around the both of you until you were a breathless mess of laughter and groans, your mouths never quite separating even when your teeth bumped painfully together.
”Shit…Sorry,” You laughed against his lips, breathless, but he only kissed you harder, his grin pressing to your lips.
”Don’t care,” He muttered roughly, before continuing his reunion with your mouth.
The duvet that cocooned you both, trapped his heat until it felt like you were lying in a furnace. His body radiated warmth like sunlight bottled into flesh, and sweat began to bead along your skin beneath your thin sleep shirt. It clung to your chest, damp and suffocating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from him, not when his mouth was devouring yours
like he had been waiting for this moment for an eternity.
Still, he noticed.
With a frustrated groan, he tore his mouth away and shoved the heavy duvet down and off the bed with one powerful sweep of his arm. The sudden rush of cool air kissed your overheated skin, and you gasped in relief as your lungs finally drew a full breath.
“Don’t want to accidentally give you heat stroke,” He panted, a smirk tugging at the corners of his kiss-swollen lips, as his golden eyes gleamed down at you, mischievous and burning all at once.You giggled, brushing your damp hair away from his face.
”I don’t mind…I think I’d die happy if that happened.” You teased, your voice airy with laughter. His brows arched at that comment, and he shook his head.
”You’re ridiculous,” He muttered, nuzzling his nose against yours before stealing a quick kiss from you, ‘And I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that.” Then his mouth crashed back onto yours again, hotter, hungrier, as if to punctuate his words.
Your hands roamed without restraint now, sliding beneath the hem of his shirt, exploring the hard planes of his chest and the ridges of muscle that flexed beneath your touch. His skin was slick with sweat, hot enough to sear your fingertips, and you dragged your nails down over the thick flesh of his ribs until he hissed against your mouth. He retaliated by yanking at your shirt, tugging it upward in rough, impatient movements that made you giggle into his lips even as you wriggled to help. Together you wrestled the fabric over your head, tossing it aside, only to smash your mouths back together before it even hit the floor.
“God, you feel unreal,” He rasped, his large rough hands sliding up your bare sides, palms spanning your waist, your ribs, and your chest, until he cupped your face in both hands and kissed you with dizzying intensity.
”You’re the one who feels unreal,” You whispered between kisses, your fingers tangling in his sweat-damp hair, tugging hard until he groaned into your mouth, “You’re too hot–I swear it feels like I’m touching the sun.”
“Good,” He growled, his teeth scraping down your jaw before biting gently at your throat, “Maybe you won’t let Bob keep me caged up for so damn long next time.” Your laugh broke on a gasp when his mouth latched onto the curve of your neck, sucking until you whimpered, and your nails dug into his shoulders.
”You think I have control over that?” You asked, writhing against him slightly.
”You have more control over me than you think,” He muttered darkly, dragging his lips back to yours, swallowing your next protest in another heated kiss.
Your clothes came off in a frenzy after that. His shirt first, ripped over his head so quickly you nearly elbowed him in the process, the both of you breathless with laughter as it was flung somewhere across the room. Your shorts followed, tangled around your thighs until he yanked them off impatiently, growling when the fabric clung to your damp skin. You kicked them away, only to feel his hand immediately gripping your hips, bringing your back against him.
You fought him for his sweatpants next, fingers fumbling at the waistband, tugging and shoving, with the both of you groaning and laughing as he tried to toe them off on his own without having to pull away fully from you.
”You’re impossible,” You giggled against his lips, trying to steady yourself.
”Shut up and get them off me,” He whispered against your mouth, breathless and laughing at himself too.
When you finally shoved his pants away, the two of you were stripped down to nothing but your underwear, bodies slick with sweat, limbs tangled together, mouth locked in feverish, unrelenting kisses. His hands never stopped moving–skimming down your spine, cupping your ass, smoothing over your thighs, then cradling your face with such aching need that it made your heart clench. He worshiped and devoured in equal measure.
One moment he was groaning into your mouth as he gripped your body and dug his fingers into your flesh, the next he was whispering hoarsely against your wet lips, “Missed you…Missed you so damn much.”
“I missed you too,” You gasped back, clinging to him with everything you had, your legs wrapping tight around his waist, pressing your chest flush to his, “God, I really thought you weren’t coming back.” He shook his head, kissing up your neck, licking the salty sweat that formed on your skin.
”Nothing could keep me from you…I’d crawl to the ends of the Earth just to get some time with you.” He rasped fiercely, his golden eyes searing into your before his mouth claimed you again.
The kiss was dizzying, a violent blend of teeth and tongue and breath. You moved with him instinctively, rocked by the raw rhythm of his need, your body arching and rolling with every insistent sweep of his mouth. His big hands framed your face, holding you in place like you were something precious and breakable even as his kisses left you feeling devoured, ruined, consumed.
And then–
You felt a pulse hit deep in your core.
A gasp escaped into his mouth, as your toes curled so hard against the sheets. It wasn’t thrust, not motion, but pressure–a sudden, clenching squeeze inside you that was impossible, invasive, overwhelming. It felt like invisible fingers had pushed their way inside you and writhed within your core, crushing every nerve ending in one sharp stroke.
Your entire body seized up against him, a strangled moan ripping from your throat before you could choke it back. He kissed you through it, swallowing the sound like it was fuel, his lips grinning faintly against yours as though he knew exactly what was happening to you.
Another pulse came, deeper this time, a squeeze that vibrated through your walls, pressing against places you didn’t know could be touched from the inside. You whimpered, your hips twitching helplessly against him, and his thumbs stroked slow over your damp cheeks where he held you captive. His lips never stilled, only pulled back long enough to let you see the way his golden eyes gleamed down at you, shimmering with power, sparking with molten light.
“Easy, my love…” He murmured, his voice hoarse against your lips, every word shaking the inside of your chest, “Just feel me…Focus on the pressure.” The next squeeze wrung through you, this one sharp and rolling, a pulsing wave that felt like it clamped your entire core and refused to let go. You cried out, hips jerking, thighs trembling as the wet heat between your legs began to slowly drip out of you, soaking your panties, feeling him gently push your legs open so the cool air of the room hit the wet patch.
“Sentry–fuck, it’s a lot, it’s too much. What are you doing to me?” Your voice cracked, high and raw with desperation.
He leaned closer, his mouth grazing the shell of your ear, his words low and filthy. “I’m squeezing you from the inside out. And God–your body is clenching around me like it knows I’m there…” Another pulse hit you, vibrating now as the pressure rolled over the nerve endings inside your, dragging over your walls that began to flutter uncontrollably. Your back arched off the bed, your cry muffled by his mouth crashing back down on yours, kissing you rough enough to bruise.
He kissed down your neck, teeth grazing, lips sucking until you whimpered. His voice rasped against your throat. “God, you’re soaking. You’re dripping through your panties, I can feel it.” You writhed against him, as he smiled wickedly “You like this, don’t you? You like me wringing you open like this, huh? You like that I don’t even have to fuck you to make you come.” A sob of pleasure broke from your chest, your nails clawing into his damp back, desperate for something to hold you steady while your body convulsed under the impossible pressure. The pulse squeezed again, vibrating harder, like he was flexing inside you, milking every nerve raw.
Your brain scrambled, short-circuiting under the flood of sensation. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe. You could only feel him, and he was everywhere.
”You’re shaking so much.” He growled, his tongue flicking against the lobe of your ear before he bit it, “Look at you…My perfect girl, losing her mind just because I decided to play with you…God, I can smell how wet you are–so fucking sweet. Do you know how hard it is not to rip your panties off and taste you right now?” Another squeeze. Another clench. This one long and merciless, and you screamed, your hips bucking violently beneath him, the sheets twisting under your fists.
“Ohhh–oh God–” You whimpered, your whole body convulsing as if you needed to pee suddenly–like he was pressing against your bladder.
“That’s it,” he whispered, biting down on your neck, groaning at the way you writhed beneath him. “Let it out, Y/N…You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you? Gonna soak your panties without me even sliding inside you…” Then with one more final pulse, your body finally gave in and broke.
You screamed his name, the sound ripping from your throat as hot wetness gushed violently between your thighs. Your soaked panties clung uselessly to you as your arousal flooded through them, soaking the sheets beneath you in wave after humiliating, devastating wave. Your thighs shook and twitched, trembling violently, but he didn’t stop.
The pressure stayed. It pulsed again, slower now, relentless, as if he was savoring every flutter of your overstimulated core gave him. You sobbed into his mouth, your tears spilling down your cheeks as you begged, your voice shattered.
”Sentry…Please stop, I can’t…It’s too much please.” Instantly, the invisible grip vanished, and you gasped, collapsing back into the ruined sheets beneath you. Your chest heaved, sweat clinging to your heated skin, your thighs slick and dripping, the evidence of your releasing soaking everything beneath you. He cupped your face against, his thumbs brushing your damp cheeks, his golden eyes glowing down at you with concern now instead of feral hunger.
”You okay?” He asked softly, his voice suddenly gentle, protective even–like he didn’t just cause this reaction.You squeezed your eyes shut, mortification breaking through the haze.
”I think…I think you pressed on my bladder and I…I peed myself.” A low hum rumbled from his chest. He shook his head, the faintest crooked grin tugging at his lips. One hand left your cheek, trailing down, slipping beneath the waistband of your ruined panties. His fingers dragged through the sodden mess between your legs, collecting the slickness before pulling out. When he held them up in front of your eyes, they glistened in the dim lighting.
“You didn’t pee yourself, you just squirted…” He murmured, his voice thick with pride. You let out a shaky breath, feeling the relief wash over you.
”Could’ve fooled me…” You commented, but he leaned down and kissed your cheek sweetly, his lips warm and gentle.
”Got so worked up you couldn’t even think straight so I wouldn’t blame you if you did end up peeing yourself.” He joked, then he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking your arousal off them one by one, groaning at the taste before dragging his lips back to yours so you could get a sample as well, his tongue tangling with yours briefly before he pulled back.
“Should test out my other powers on you,” He teased, his grin wicked and feral. You let out a shaky laugh, placing a trembling hand against his chest to steady yourself.
“Not right now…I think I’ll die on this bed if I have another orgasm like that tonight.” He chuckled low, leaning in to kiss your cheek.
”Alright…No more experimenting for tonight…But the idea isn’t off the table right?” He asked curiously.
This is a footbal cap? How is it name the game that is it use in? I'm not from any English speaking country so idk. But if i were to write something were some of the stray kids members are part of the team of wherever sport this is... what sport would it be? Hehehe.
Should i write a fic where reader is found by master Lee, who trains her to become one of the best magicians. She meets Naksu and Yul when they are teens and falls in love with Yul but do to Master Lee restricted training he forbids reader to keep on seeing him.
They grow up and reader ends up working as a sword dancer and hiding that she is a magician.
She meets againg with Yul while all the crazy things are happening and they fall in love againg.
