#au gust fills

[rainbow-nerdss]

Definition

Written for @augustwritingchallenge day 25 (Joker Prompt): Role Reversal Buddie, 2.8k Read on AO3

or: 5 times people get Buck's role in Chris's life wrong, and 1 time they set the record straight

1: 

It starts on a night in December, after Buck tagged along with Eddie when he was bringing Chris to see Santa Claus. 

“You two have an adorable son,” the elf says to Buck, after Chris is done, refusing to say what he wished for but laughing when Eddie picks him up and carries him off.

Buck doesn’t correct her. She’s doing her job, and she’s being nice, and there’s no point in making the situation awkward by pointing out the mistake. 

He can’t blame her for making the assumption, either — they’re two adults, together. taking a kid out to see Santa. They’d been sitting pretty close together by the fountain, and Buck knows he’s been looking at Chris like a proud parent even though he’s not one.

It’s like a whiplash, though, going from talking to Eddie about Shannon’s place as Chris’s parent, her place in both of their lives, to someone assuming Buck is the one in that place. It makes him uncomfortable, but at the same time… there’s a longing there, for that to be true someday. Not with Eddie and Chris, but with someone.

He rejoins Eddie and Chris, and he doesn’t tell them, either. But he keeps that little mistake, and the warmth it sparked in his chest, and he holds onto it. 

He doesn’t know why, not for a long time, but that one little sentence sticks with him.

2: 

It’s years later, and Maddie’s just announced her pregnancy to the whole team. Eddie already knows, Buck’s excitement at the news making it impossible for him not to spill. They’re at a barbecue in Bobby and Athena’s back yard, and everyone toasts the happy couple.

Bobby turns to Buck, once the initial round of cheers and congratulations for the parents-to-be. “So you’re gonna be an uncle, huh? How’s it feeling?”

Eddie sips his beer, smiling to himself. Buck’s spoken about anything else since he heard the news, so Eddie’s pretty sure he knows the answer.

“Well, he’s already an uncle, right?” Ravi interrupts. Eddie frowns at him, and Buck looks as confused as he feels. 

“What do you mean?” he asks.

Ravi looks between the two of them. “I mean, not by blood, sure, but like…” He gestures over to Christopher, playing with Denny on the ipad.

Eddie feels himself grimace. Something about it strikes him as wrong. Buck’s an important part of Chris’s life, but uncle? He thinks of his own tíos, how they’d come to visit every now and again, spend most of the time talking to his parents and talking to him just long enough to establish how he was doing in school, and whether or not he had a girlfriend. 

He knows Buck won’t be like that with Maddie’s kid, but it still feels…. different.

Eddie doesn’t know how to respond to it, honestly. "Buck isn’t—that's not..." But what can he say? That's not how it is. That’s not enough to describe Buck’s importance in Chris’s life.

Eddie looks back at Buck, and sees matching confusion on his face. “Chris doesn’t call me his uncle,” he says, as though the idea has never even occurred to him. Eddie smiles at him, and Buck smiles back, and there’s a mutual understanding there.

Buck’s not Chris’s uncle. He’s… Well, he’s something else — something Eddie’s not quite ready to name yet, but there’s a piece of paper in a lawyer’s office to attest to it.

3: 

Chris is not feeling good. His head is spinning, his stomach churning, and he feels both hot and cold at the same time. 

“Your dad will be here soon, okay, honey?” Nurse Rodriguez tells him, after hanging up the phone. “You just sit tight and let me know if anything changes.”

He’s in the nurse’s office, staring bleary-eyed at the linoleum floor. The pattern swims around as his vision blurs, and he hugs the little basin Nurse Rodriguez had given him close, feeling more like he was gonna need it with every passing second.

“I’m here for Christopher Diaz?” 

He hears a familiar voice outside the room, and it makes him relax, just knowing he’ll be home soon, able to curl up in bed or on the couch, watch TV and be taken care of.

“Mr. Diaz!” Nurse Rodriguez says, in her overly-friendly voice, and Chris laughs, lurching his stomach and making him feel so much worse.

“Uh, I’m not… I’m Buck—Evan Buckley, I mean, I should be…?”

Nurse Rodriguez backtracks, apologizing. “Oh! I am so sorry, Mr. Buckley, I see you on the emergency contact list. If you’d just sign here?”

Chris loses track of the conversation outside, focusing instead on his breathing until Nurse Rodriguez comes back in and escorts him out to Buck. Buck wraps an arm around him and helps him out to the car, then sets him up with blankets and a bucket on the couch, and serves up chicken noodle soup when Chris is able to stomach food.

He lets Chris curl into his side to take a nap, warm and comfortable, like he’s a little kid again, and he stays there even after Chris goes to bed, even after his dad gets home and comes in to check on him.

4:

Buck knocks on Hen's door, and is immediately met with an armful of sleepy infant as she passes the baby over to him. He takes it in stride, adjusting her in his arms so she's comfortable and following Hen inside. 

"Everything okay?" He asks, once they're in the kitchen, surrounded by dirty mixing bowls and flour dusting every surface.

"There's a bake sale at the school tomorrow, and someone forgot to mention it until about an hour ago." She raises her voice on the word someone, pointedly glaring out to where Denny is doing his homework in the next room.

"I said I was sorry!" Denny calls back, and Hen grumbles but Buck can see there's no real resentment there.

"That's rough," Buck commiserates. "I take it we're not going to see that movie tonight, then?"

Hen shakes her head. "Sorry, man. I gotta take care of this. I do not trust Karen with baking supplies." Hen makes a face. "Granted, I'm also not spectacular at it but…"

Buck laughs. "I can help out," he offers. "I've got a great recipe for cupcakes?"

Hen makes a face. "Are you sure? You wouldn't know it, Buck, but those PTA moms are so picky about what you bring and whether it's good enough for their precious little babies—"

Buck snorts, gently settling the baby in her rocker. She fusses a little, but calms down after a moment or two. He gets the recipe up on his phone. "Oh, trust me—I know."

Hen looks confused, so he elaborates with an amused smile. "What, you think Eddie Diaz does all that stuff? I'll never forget the look on Carter's mom's face when my cookies outsold hers at the last bake sale at Chris's school." Buck chuckles to himself, then starts gathering ingredients. 

"Huh, I'm sorry. I guess I just assumed—I mean, he's got his aunt, and Carla…" Hen trails off with a shrug and falls into place next to Buck, reading the recipe and pointing him to the right cupboards to find what he needs.

"They do some, when we've got work or something, but…" Buck falters. He wants to say something like "That's different," or "They're not his parents," but... neither is Buck, is he? He remembers the elf from all those years ago, how he hadn't corrected her. The feeling of wanting that. 

At the time, he’d thought the want was just for a family of his own, a partner, a kid. Now, though… those lines aren’t as clear anymore.

"I like to help out," is all he says, and then switches on the mixer, effectively shutting off conversation.

5: 

Eddie's had a few drinks. Buck's at work, and Chris has been coerced into going with Pepa to visit Eddie's parents for the weekend. Eddie had been supposed to go too, but he doesn't feel too guilty about playing up his injuries as an excuse not to join them. He did feel slightly bad that his parents hadn't let them off the hook entirely, insisting on taking Chris off his hands.

Chris had dragged his feet about it, but Eddie knows he's stubborn enough to stay behind if he really wants to — he likes getting to see his older cousins, and while he doesn’t want to live with them, he does like visiting his grandparents, too — if only because they spoil him rotten.

Buck hadn't wanted to leave Eddie alone tonight, not after he'd been injured on the bridge — no more than a dislocated shoulder and a few bruised ribs in the end, nothing compared to Chimney, to Bobby even Hen, but it was enough to get him signed off work for a fortnight. Things had been sketchy for a few minutes there, and for a moment, Eddie had feared… but then there was Buck, opening the doors, pulling him out by one arm.

It hurts like a bitch, but he's fine. Still, when Buck insisted on calling in Carla to keep him company tonight, Eddie didn't point out that was exactly what Buck had been so against Maddie doing for him after the lightning. He doesn't mind the company, especially since he hates being home alone at night.

Besides, Carla doesn't treat him like an invalid. She brings a bottle of some fruity gin, and Eddie orders from the nice Thai place, and they just hang out, catching up on all of the grown-up stuff they rarely get to talk about when they’re busy discussing Chris.

Still, they're halfway through the gin when Carla brings it up. "Buck said he was scared he lost you for a second there."

Eddie shrugs, then winces. He's not sure how much of the wince is because it tugged at his shoulder, and how much is the reminder. "Honestly, for a second, I was worried too. But Buck got me out." Like he always does, Eddie doesn't say. He'd come so close to telling Buck, then. Telling him everything, how he felt for him.

"You know, this house is weird without Chris in it," Carla slurs her words, just as tipsy as he is.. For a moment, Eddie thinks the subject has been changed, until she continues. "If anything does happen to you, there's no way in hell I'm letting your parents drag Chris to Texas for good. I'm gonna fight to keep that boy here, and I know Buck'll do the same."

Eddie laughs, realizing that he hadn't told her about his will. He hadn't told anyone, really, other than Pepa, Abuela and Buck. He'd known at the time it was a big deal, that people might get the wrong impression if he told them.

Turns out, it would have been the right impression after all.

"That won't be necessary," he tells her, after draining his glass.

"I know, I know — you're fine, you aren't going anywhere anytime soon."

"No, that's —well, yes, that too, but also—" Eddie gets up, gestures for her glass too, then pours them both a fresh drink. "My folks wouldn't get Chris, if anything happens. I have a will, so…" he shrugs, sitting back down and sliding Carla's glass over. "Buck's gonna look after him. If I can't anymore. Prob'ly still have to fight, but it's on paper, it's… official."

Carla hums, watching him carefully. "And Buck knows this?" she asks.

Eddie nods. "Told him after… after the shooting."

The last time Buck took Eddie’s hand, pulling him from danger, dragging him to safety.

Carla sighs, shaking her head. She looks at him like she's seeing something new, like this is the last piece in a puzzle she's been working on for years. "Why haven't either of you made a move yet?"

Eddie chokes on his drink, and she pushes a dishcloth across the table for him to mop himself up. Once he's composed himself, he meets her eye.

"Honestly?" He asks. "I can't speak for Buck, but… I'm sort of starting to wonder the same thing."

+1:

Chris is honestly tired of everyone making assumptions about Buck's place in his life. It's been clear to Chris himself for a long time—probably longer than Buck himself has known. The problem is, they've never said it out loud.

That's going to change today.

A month ago, Chris got home from Texas to find his dad and Buck making out in the kitchen.

He'd run to wash out his eyes, but then they say him down,  and the three of them had talked it out together, and he's happy for them. Happy they’ve finally started being honest with themselves, with him, and with each other.

And now, it's Christopher's turn to do the same.

He's not as good as Buck at making pancakes, but he can do French toast pretty well, so he makes enough for the three of them and sets it on the table. It's a little overcooked, but he doesn't think they'll mind. 

Then he knocks on their bedroom door—because Buck may still be paying rent on his apartment for now, but he basically lives with them already. Chris likes that, likes having Buck around even more than before.

He disappears back to the kitchen before they can get to the door, calling them down when he hears Buck ask after him in a sleepy voice.

"Oh my god," his dad says, taking in the sight of the food on the table when both of them shuffle in. "This is… you made this yourself?"

"It's Father's Day, dad. I wanted to treat you."

Chris accepts the tearful hug with only minimal complaints, part of the gift.

Once they're both seated, he goes back to his room, returning with the real present.

"Carla helped with these," he explains, suddenly nervous. "I designed them, and then she sent them off to be made with the money from my allowance, um…"

Chris hands over the one on top first, putting it in front of his dad. Buck chews on his French toast, eyeing the package curiously while Eddie opens it.

Inside is a plaque, printed to look like a dictionary entry. It's cheesy as hell, but if Chris knows his dad, he'll eat it up. 

It reads:

Dad (n): a firefighter with a terrible sense of humor, someone who drinks too much coffee and spends too much time on his hair. See also: Father

Just as Chris predicted, Eddie's eyes grow wet, and he reaches out for another hug, which Chris indulges again.

"What's the other one?" Buck asks.

Chris takes a deep breath. This is it, he tells himself, and he hands the second package to Buck.

Buck looks at it, then up at Chris in confusion, waiting for him to nod before opening it with slow, careful movements — it's so unlike Buck, who always tears into the wrapping paper on his birthday presents, that Chris almost wants to laugh. He doesn't, though. This is serious, after all.

Buck stares down at the plaque, the same style as the first, with a different message.

This one reads:

Buck (n): A firefighter with a terrible sense of humor, the maker of the best pancakes, someone who knows way too many random facts. See also: Father.

"Chris…" Buck's voice is soft, and he looks to be at a loss for words, so Chris speaks instead. He practiced what he’s going to say here, to make his meaning absolutely clear.

"I know I only ever call you Buck," he says, "but that's just because calling both of you dad would be confusing, and pops is Bobby." Chris laughs, thinking of the time he'd spent on his own in his room, thinking of different words for dad he could call Buck, none of them fitting until he realized why. "But… Buck means the same thing as those other names to me, and it has ever since the pier. Since you saved me. You're my Buck. And I'm your son."

Chris is bright red by the end of his speech, he doesn't think he's said that much uninterrupted to his parents in a long time, and they're both just… staring at him.

Chris initiates the hug this time, throwing himself into Buck's arms. Later, he'll claim it was just so he didn't have to see the sappy looks on their faces, but he buries his face in Buck's shoulder, feels Buck's arms around his back, and he knows without a doubt that he's safe there.

His dad joins the hug too after a moment, sandwiching Chris in the middle in a way that should be uncomfortable, but Chris smiles to himself anyway.

The two plaques hang side by side on the wall of the living room, for everyone who visits to see, clearing up any and all confusion in the matter.

Buck is Christopher's dad, nothing more, and nothing less.

#my fic #au gust 2023 #au gust fills #buddie #buddie fic #buck/eddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #buckley diaz family

[iamartemisday]

Title: Taken By The Dragon Written for: @augustwritingchallenge Twisted Fairy Tale Pairing: Loki/Jane Rating: M Warnings: None Summary: Once Upon A Time, a princess was whisked away by a dragon in the dead of night, never to return.

#Lokane #Loki #Jane Foster #au-gust 2022 #au-gust #Twisted Fairy Tale #Bingo Fill #Prompt Fill

[izzy-b-hands]

Day Nine is done

I have not yet slept, but it is done and I'm actually quite proud of it.

Sad, but sweet. Please mind the tags and read the summary before getting into this one to make sure you're up for it! (and no shame if it ain't your cup of tea. I didn't intend on it being a sadder one myself when I first started it, and I know I'm not always up for reading those fics either.) No major character death, but there is an injured child, animal death/euthanisation, and complex feelings bc despite parents doing their best, they fucked up and we wound up with the injured child as previously noted.

#text post #OFMD AU-GUST #now I am going to shower and going to bed bc it is two am #and i am actually kinda tired after having finished this fkdsajflsaj #i know a lot of folks might skip this one but even so i'm proud of this bad boy #longer than my usual works and i think i actually did the prompt justice the whole way thru for once lol #okay im going to get ready for bed now really i swear!!! #bc i'm gonna need to start more fills when i wake up in a few hours fslakfjdsa

[fairy-angel222]

𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—a day with your favorite person on earth leads you to a fancy hotel for one weekend.. where you finally give yourself to your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.

content: college au, fluff, biker gojo, nerdy fem! reader, rich boy gojo (he spoils you bad bad), loving gojo, popular boy shy girl trope, smut, virginity loss, gentle sex, pussy eating, a lot of praise, petnames, reassurance

Friday, marked the calendar on your phone. You stood outside your house swaying lightly on your feet as you waited for your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru. He refused to let you get to school any other way.

You were clad in a simple white sweater and a black skirt, which blew up at the gust of wind created from your boyfriend’s speeding bike. You smiled, fixing your glasses on your face before giving him a pretty smile.

The tall man getting off with a grin on his face. Shaking his hair back into place as he took off his black helmet. Gojo walked towards you to embrace you in a tight hug, his hands around your waist lifting you off of the ground making you giggle. “Hi baby.”

Gojo placed a short kiss to your lips, “Hello princess,” his eyes filled with adoration as he walked you to his bike with his hand still on your waist. Putting on the helmet he made you choose out before helping you onto the seat. “Hold on tight.”

You always enjoyed morning rides like this. The cool wind on your skin as Gojo maneuvered through countless vehicles. Always making sure to not go too fast for your sake.

Your hands rested on his abs from behind, your vision being blocked by his back which you didn’t mind one bit. Gojo turned to ensure that you were alright, something he did every morning. And although you kept telling him that you were fine, he insisted on keeping himself reassured.

You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath, your smile still on your face even as you approached campus. Your boyfriend quick to park in the spot that everyone knew belonged to him.

Girls gawked as Gojo removed his helmet, once again fixing the white fluff of hair on his head before he was getting off the bike. Helping you do the same and removing your helmet for you, pushing your glasses further up your face since they had began falling. “God you’re so beautiful.” Gojo breathed.

And your heart beat sped up as you looked down shyly. Compliments.. you still weren’t very used to those. Gojo’s fingers found their way under your chin to lift your head up, “You’re really cute when you’re flustered you know that?”

He intertwined his fingers into yours, “Plus, there’s no need to be shy around me princess.”

You could feel eyes burning into you as you walked with Gojo, burying your body into his side at all the stares. “Are they ever not gonna stare..” you mumbled, looking up at him as he looked down at you. “They’re just jealous my love, don’t worry.”

You nodded, lips pulled into a tight line at the girls sending dirty looks your way. This was university for goodness sakes.. were they ever going to grow up. Noticing your discomfort, Gojo scowled in the direction of the girls, “The fuck are you looking at?” Watching as their eyes widened before scrambling off.

It was no secret that your boyfriend was popular, every teacher and every student knew his name. He was kind, a little mean and protective when it came to you, but he really was kind to everybody.

You however, you were just a girl who was non existent until you started dating Gojo. How did you two start dating? No one could phantom it.

—

Sitting on one of the bleachers, you were deep in a book. Your lunch sitting uneaten next to as you scanned through the words on each page. It was a romance, which you usually didn’t read but this one was just.. interesting.

Losing track of the time, your eyes widened when you saw that you were minutes late to your lecture. Hurriedly scrambling up your belongings and making your way inside.

You internally cringed when you pushed open the double doors to your class. All heads turning to look at you while your professor simply ushered you to take a seat. He knew you were never late, so he was very understanding.

Taking a random seat, you were quick to pull out your books and highlighters to take notes. Concentratedly jotting down important points and details, using your middle finger to sit your black framed glasses higher onto the bridge of your nose.

“Mind sending me a picture of those later today? I forgot my materials at home.” a familiar face smiled innocently, his bag hidden near his feet as he waited for an answer.

Gojo Satoru. A name that you obviously knew. He was extremely handsome up close, and his cologne smelt great. And he.. was talking to you? You tried your hardest to act neutral when you focused your attention onto him. “Oh, uh sure. No problem.”

“Great, let me put my number in your phone so you can text it to me yeah?”

You nodded, handing him the device and watching as he typed his number in. Saving it as Satoru. With a heart.

He finished just in time for the lecture to end. Slinging his bag over his shoulder with a wink, “Thanks princess.”

Ever since that interaction the only thing on Gojo’s mind was you. He began texting you for every little thing and talking to you every day. You guys became somewhat of friends.

Then he was holding your hands all day, saying that they were so much smaller and softer than his. Or wrapping his hand around your waist when you two walked. He told his friend Suguru about you, and though at the time you did not know the other male who attended a different school, you’d assumed he was a pretty great person.

Whispers started to float around the school about your relationship. None of which Gojo ever shut down despite knowing he had the ability to.

You and Gojo made it official after he took you on multiple dates disguised as hangouts. And you couldn’t even deny it, you had already started to fall for him by then. So when he pressed his lips to yours, pulling you impossibly closer to him with his hands on your waist. You melted. That was your first kiss, and it was perfect.

There should not have been a difference in Gojo’s behavior considering he treated you like his girlfriend from the get go. But he somehow proved that statement wrong. He was the best thing anyone could ever ask for. And he was most certainly the best thing that happened to you.

He got you used to early morning and late night bike rides. To the point where you began to love them just as much. You two were polar opposites, but he made it work.

One thing you never got used to, were the never ending stares and whispers directed your way. Even though Gojo was always there to put the person or people in their place.

You loved Gojo Satoru, and Gojo Satoru loved you.

—

The day went by very quickly, you snd Gojo did not share any classes. But you spent every minute in between together. Especially since you both had only morning classes.

Gojo smiled as you two walked towards each other. Happy that he would be able to spend the rest of the day together. Until..

“Hi Satoru!” she smiled sweetly, purposely blocking his movements when he tried to walk past. You bit your lips as you watched the scene, not finding it in you to tell her off.

Gojo sighed in annoyance, “What the fuck do you want.” his voice was stern, she had been bothering him for over a year now, and it only got worse when he started dating you.

She tilted her head, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Oh you know.. just wanted to say that if you ever got tired of that ugly slut of a nerd i’ll be right—“

Her high pitched voice was cut off by Gojo holding her roughly by her neck. Something that was way out of character for him. He was just so sick and fucking tired of people talking about you like you weren’t a person. His person.

Backing her roughly into the lockers, Gojo voice was low and aggressive, “If you ever fucking talk about my girl like that again, i swear i’ll fucking-“

“Gojo..” you called out, the man’s eyes softening when he caught sight of you. “It’s fine, let’s just go.. please?”

Gojo nodded, giving the girl another dirty look, “I'd pick her over your ass any day.” Letting go of her and walking in your direction. The girl glaring at you before she stomped away.

Gojo’s hand was in yours once more, your head on his side as you two made your way out of the building. Gojo sighed, “I’m sorry love, got a little pissed off there.”

You smiled, “No, don’t be. I’m.. i’m glad you care so much.”

“Of course i care, you’re my girl and i love you.”

Your heart fluttered, “I love you too.” And you truly meant it.

Gojo got onto his bike after helping you on, both your helmets on your heads with your hands around his waist. Making sure you were secured before taking off. Except it was in the completely opposite direction from your house.

“Baby, where are we going?” you asked curiously.

Gojo only grinned cheekily, “You’ll see.”

You trusted him. Enjoying the ride to wherever he was bringing you. Watching as day turned into night from the long ride.

Your eyes widened when Gojo pulled over at some fancy hotel. His smile never faltering as he got off.

“Annnnnd we’re here.” he spoke, looking intently at your reaction.

“Baby why are we here?” you questioned curiously, still marveling over the beautiful tall structure.

“Giving you a weekend off of school, of course. Gotta take your mind away from all that work somehow.”

You were speechless, “Satoru, you really didn’t have to.” Gojo’s hands grabbed your face softly, tears welling in your eyes at the him going this far for you. Especially when one night alone was almost 400 dollars.

“Hey, look at me. I’m more than happy to do this for you.” He reassured, pressing his lips softly onto yours before chuckling, “Plus, when life gives you this much money, spend it on the person you love the most.”

“B-but i don’t have any clothes,”

“I’m taking you shopping tomorrow.”

Gojo lead you through the grand doors of the building, giving his keys to the valet on his way in. Making your way to front desk, you glanced nervously around you. Everything was white and gold, and you gelt so out of place with the clothes you had on.

“Satoru Gojo.” Your boyfriend nodded to the receptionist who smiled knowingly when she handed him the keys. “Enjoy.”

You waited in anticipation for Gojo to open the door. Your jaw dropping when you took sight of the rose petals making a walkway to the room’s bed. Which had the words ‘I love you’ in a heart spelt out from petals.

There were rose scented candles near the bed, but what really caught your attention was the mini backyard the room seemed to have. “Satoru.. you didn’t.”

He hummed, “Oh yes i did,” leading you outside to a large blanket set up. Candles surrounding it with roses scattered all over. A small picnic basket and a bottle of wine in the center as the moonlight shone down of the most beautiful gift you had ever received.

You wanted to burst into tears. It was so perfect, turning to Gojo with a trembling lip before embracing him in a tight hug. “I don’t even know what to s-say.. it’s so beautiful. I-“ you sniffled, “words cannot even begin to express how happy i feel right now. I love it. And i love you even more.”

Gojo smiled, wiping your tears with the pads of his thumb. “Anything for you love. Anything.”

After freshening up, you wore your boyfriend’s oversized sweater, giggling softly when he extended a hand. “Join me for dinner m’ lady?”

“I’d be delighted to.”

You sat next to each other on the wide blanket. Gojo opening the basket to reveal all your favorite foods and deserts. Your eyes practically sparkling under your lenses at the countless options.

You both dug in not long after, laughing with each other as Gojo messily attempted to feed you a slice of cheesecake. The cherry sauce staining the tip of your nose, and you yelped when Gojo licked it off.

It was amazing, you felt at peace. Especially as you two finished eating, each drinking a glass of wine before laying together. Watching the stars with satisfied hearts as you cuddled into your boyfriend. His arm around you as he held you almost on top his chest. Your legs tangled with his long ones as you matched your breaths to his.

Gojo couldn’t help it when your scent alone started to drive him crazy. The feeling of you on him, your skin on his. It was getting to him.

You could feel his cock growing hard underneath you, poking at your flesh making you heat up. Unsure of what to do, you ended up shifting on top of him. The man letting out a groan before holding you still. “Might not wanna move like that love.”

You playing with his shirt as you contemplated what to say next. You were a virgin, but.. you were ready to give it away, to him.

“Satoru.. I um.. I want.. I want you to f-fuck me.” You stuttered out. And Gojo’s eyes widened at the way you worded it. Fuck, huh? You wanted him to fuck you.

“Love, don’t think that you have to do this because you can feel me hard.” he started, “it’ll go away soon, you don’t have to worry.”

You shook your head stubbornly. “No, I.. I want it, want to do it with you tonight. Please.”

Gojo swallowed hard, his boner straining painfully in his pants. “Are you sure princess?”

“Mhm, i’m ready.”

Gojo smiled, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before he was gently turning you onto your back. The stars seemingly only shining down on you in that moment. “You’re so perfect.” he whispered, his eyes stuck on yours as he peeled the sweater off your body.

Finally breaking eye contact to kiss down your neck and onto your chest. Allowing his tongue to swirl around your pert nipple before kissing his way down your stomach. “Whole body’s so perfect.” he spoke against your skin. And you whimpered when he pulled your panties off. “Fucking beautiful.”

Gojo kissed down the smooth skin, kissing your clit which made you shiver, his tongue licking a teasing stripe on the small bud. Gojo continued his way down, kissing both your folds before his tongue made contact with your wetness. He groaned. “You taste so sweet love.”

Your breathing sled up before he could even start anything. Bringing himself up and stripping out of his own clothes. The moon shining onto his back as he hovered over you. His blue eyes bright and beautiful while lining up with your hole.

“You sure about this princess?”

You whined, “Just do it.”

Gojo chuckled, taking your hand in his before slowly pushing into you inch by inch. “It’s gonna sting a little,” he said right before you winced, feeling your tightness stretching to accommodate his girth. “That’s it.. there we go.. good girl.” Gojo soothed.

You let out a moan, a pleasurable sensation raking through your body when his cock grazed something inside of you. Gojo smirked when he got all of his length in you, your pussy tight on his stilled cock. “Tell me when to move okay?”

You wasted no time, wanting that amazing sensation back. “You can move.”

Gojo abided, slowly easing you into the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you. Your lips parting in loud mewls when he gained speed.

“O-oh Satoru, f-feels good.”

Gojo grinned, his pace gaining more speed with each passing second. Rolling his hips into yours until you were moaning uncontrollably. Feeling your boyfriend’s cock fucking into that same spot before making its way deeper.

Your hands reached up for your boyfriend’s hair. Tugging lightly at white strands with short whimpers which matched his thrusts.

Gojo grunted, “You like that?”

You nodded with a shaky cry, your stomach pooling with heat as your body was rocked back and forth. “Ahh— Satoru.” you mewled, Gojo’s mouth latching onto your breasts with a groan, sucking and licking at one while his hand squeezed the other.

Gojo began kissing up your neck. Littering your skin with small love bites as he made his way to your chin. Kissing your cheeks, your forehead, then finally your lips. Capturing all your cute noises while his hand moved down to your clit.

Your back arched with a cry when Gojo began rubbing small circles. Your toes curling with your moans becoming high pitched loud.

“Nnhg— haah— so g-ood,” you breathed, your eyes closing as your body began to tremble. An unfamiliar coil feeling ready to snap.

“Look at me when you cum.” Gojo husked, watching as you look up at him through your lashes. Your hips arching into his hand before you were involuntarily shaking. Your pussy clenching down on him with a short scream.

“There you go beautiful, let it all out.” he cooed, your pretty pussy gushing messily onto him

“Nngh— feels weird,” you mewled, your legs threatening to close around your boyfriend.

“Just let it happen, it’s gonna feel great. I promise.”

You took Gojo’s word, allowing the newfound feeling to wash over your body before your eyes rolled back, squirting harshly onto Gojo’s cock and thighs.

Gojo could feel his ego swell, “I made you squirt princess. My first time in you and i made you squirt.” he boasted, a lazy smile gracing his features as his thrusts got sloppy. Your moans never ceasing as he got closer to his release.

Gojo groaned, “Hmm— i love you so much. Love so you fucking much.” Burying his head in your neck as his abs tensed, quickly pulling out of you to spill onto your stomach. Your chest rising and falling in soft pants as you both came down from your highs.

You smiled shyly, “That was amazing.”

Gojo tilted his head, “Was it now?” Pressing a kiss to your lips, “I’m glad.”

Gojo took you back inside, running you a bath before settling in the tub with you in between his legs. His chin on your shoulder as he let you relax while he cleaned you up.

The weekend went great. He took you shopping, you ate a delicious breakfast, lunch and dinner. Visited the many pools and buffets. And had sex. Twice. It was better than anything you could ask for. And you wouldn’t give it up for the world.

No school, no ‘friends’, no bothers, no worries. Just you and Satoru. Exactly how it will always be.

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[sprout-fics]

Oh Muse, Tell me of the Things Done by Golden Aphrodite

(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F! Reader)

Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 5.6k Warnings: None Tags: Greek Mythology AU, Greek God inspired, Human sacrifice reader, God of death and wrath Ghost, Size difference, Size kink, Praise Kink, (Marriage kink if you squint?), PiV sex, Aftercare, Eros and Psyche inspired, Cliffhanger A/N: Part two dependent on reception

They call your fate a tragedy.

It’s a necessary one, the temple priest says, as you weep at the steps leading up to the grand mausoleum- inlaid with gold and obsidian. You wrap your arms around yourself as they tell you of your duty, inform you of your sacrifice. The statue of the god of wrath and death looms tall and menacing behind him, his bone white mask a single flash of pale amidst the dark, swirling robes that cover his limbs. You shiver as you look upon it, flesh cold as you imagine your final moments pleading at his feet.

A sacrifice, they say.

One to appease the god as death ravages your city, an holy offering innocent, beautiful and pure to quell his anger and rage. Eyes rest upon your trembling shoulders in a mixture of hope and pity, and you know even if you cry out none shall aid you. Your destiny is to die at the hands of a god so that they may live, and if it means your life is called for, they shall offer it for you.

You do not scream or struggle as they take you into the temple, you do not speak as they wash you and smooth aromatic oils into your shivering skin. You do not even look at them when they clothe you in a dark chiton and allow a veil to flutter over your despairing, tear-rimmed eyes.

When they close the altar doors behind you, you dare not throw yourself against them in one last bid for freedom.

The altar is dark, black marble columns stretching high above you and vanishing into a ceiling that the candlelight doesn’t reach. Lanterns litter the steps leading up to the sacrificial altar, with opulent offerings of jewels, weapons, and polished bones stacked high. Shadows dance between them, casting long and sinister against the temple walls. Your bare feet skim the cold stone floor as you ascend, tracing your hand against the frigid, dark mirror surface of the altar.  You were not told what to do, only to wait.

So you wait, and you wait longer, sitting upon the edge of the altar, trembling and holding in your cries until they break apart inside your throat. The chamber is silent as the grave, with not a breeze or whisper of warm air to comfort your frigid flesh. Eventually only the sound of your hiccuping sobs fills the emptiness, as you weep for your fate, for the tragedy that has befallen you, for how they shall remember your name in poems, until at last you fall asleep splayed upon the dark altar and awaiting your demise.

As you dream fitfully of the ever after, the candles waver and snuff out with a cold gust of wind. Dark eyes regard your pliant form prone atop the piles of offerings.

and quietly, arms reach forward and cradle you to him as you are taken away.

---

When you awake, it is in somewhere new.

You come to far more gently than you anticipated, soft dreams still clinging velvet to your slumber. It takes a moment for you to realize that you’re no longer curled tightly atop the hard surface of the altar, but rest instead upon silk sheets and soft, plush bedding.  The veil still drapes across your face, and as you delicately lift it, your surroundings are revealed to you.

It’s a large chamber, far larger than the temple, but sparsely furnished. You lay upon a bed fit for a man larger than any you’ve ever laid eyes upon, adorned with dark sheets and embroidered with gold thread. Torches flicker with a strange black light against the walls- silver dancing along the outer edge of flames.  The blazing hearth does the same amidst a mantle of dark stone, stretching upwards into a ceiling you’ll never reach. A mirror and a basin stands in the corner, and beside them curtains blow in from the balcony, where dawn glows yellow against the horizon.

You’re alone.

You’re careful as you creep from bed towards the balcony, the wind ruffling your gown as you stand at the precipice. Below, a stark mountain valley yawns dark and fathomless without end.

The door groans as it opens.

You flinch away from the sound, spinning and feeling terror pool low and vile in your stomach at the sight that awaits you.

It’s him.

Taller than any man, a being of pure power, the god Ghost stands at the doorway clad in billowing dark fabric, his dark eyes boring into your shivering form from behind the stark white of his skull mask. The sheer size of him is enough to send goosebumps racing down your spine, his immortal stature ensuring you scarcely come up to his chest. The strength of his limbs is curled in tight muscle discernible even with his cloak, and when you meet his eyes you think of the space between stars- a void into which no light escapes.

He takes only three strides to cross the chamber.

You cower backwards until your spine hits the railing of the balcony, and as you glance over your shoulder the valley wind roars from the depths. You wonder if it is a more fitting end to hurl yourself from here than face whatever slow death the God of Wrath has ordained for you.

He stops just at the threshold, regarding you as you look up at him with tearful, terrified eyes. At this nearness you can sense the pure energy that rolls off of him in waves, a strangeness that speaks of something far from human, an unfathomable power that your mortal soul will never fully understand.

“Don’t.” Is the first word he ever says to you, looking past you to the valley. He reaches out his hand, not an inch of his flesh visible beneath his gauntlet of white bone. “Come.”

You stay where you are, heartbeat fluttering as you eye his outstretched palm.

“If I was going to kill you, I would have done it when you were asleep.” He intones, voice deep like distant, rolling thunder. There’s a strangeness to it you cannot place, the tone of it ringing between your ears in a distant echo, otherworldly.

“Don’t hurt me, please.” Are the first words you return to him, desperate as a thing wheezes from your lungs.

Ghost stares at you unblinkingly, and despite the black ichor that paints his gaze, his eyes look almost kind.

“Come away from the balcony.” He tells you, his voice softer.

You cast another glance down at the dark valley, swallowing hard, before at last reaching your hand forward and settling it in his cold palm. He draws you inside, out of the wind, and you find yourself hovering near the hearth with its strange, dancing flames.

“Your name.” He tells you, watching as you hesitantly warm yourself, carefully looking at him out of the corner of your eye.

When you tell him, he repeats it. Slow, purposeful, as if tasting a foreign fruit for the first time. It shivers through you, as if he somehow has wound magic through the sound alone.

“You will stay here.” He tells you under no uncertain terms. “In my palace. No harm shall come to you here.”

You blink at that, face falling open with confusion as you turn to him fully.

“Why...?”

Ghost regards you coolly, but when you focus on his eyes you can swear they crinkle with a wry smile.

“I have no reason to hurt my bride.” He explains simply.

“Your...” You echo, blinking. “I...”

“You were given to me.” He tells you, advancing upon you until he’s mere inches away, one arm braced on the hearth so he bends over your smaller, mortal form. “As a sacrifice. I saved you. Your life is mine by rights.”

Fear pulses bright through you, limbs awash with dread as the blood drains from your face. You had expected death, but the daunting reality of this, of being given to a god as a bride...

Ghost must see the terror in your eyes, for he removes himself from you, striding towards the heavy, ancient door.

“I will not touch you unless you ask.” He states, voice lower. “You are free to roam this palace as you like. There is food in the banquet hall.”

He pauses, observing you as you hesitate near the hearth.

“I will return at dusk.”

and with that, your new husband vanishes.

----

True to his word, no one stops you from roaming the palace.

It’s a massive structure, with towering black columns and high ceilings. Obsidian, marble, and gold accentuates every corner, and you find treasures and trophies displayed at every turn. You are entirely alone as you wander, bare feet skimming against the cold tile as you take in your new home. Each room reveals a new wonder. A bath with glimmering water that billows steam from golden fountains, a garden with dark roses that creep along stone walls, a library with scrolls in tongues you don’t understand, and a banquet hall filled with food that doesn’t seem to rot.

You eat until your stomach is full, and with every bite the food tastes more delicious than the bite before. You scrub yourself in the bath, and when you exit you find fresh garments awaiting you, embroidered with glimmering thread. The finery is beyond anything you dared imagine, and quietly you feel your reservations departing you as the thought of possibly escaping ebbs slowly from your mind.

Dusk finds you back at his chambers, watching the shadows grow long against the walls as slumber slowly descends upon you.

You’re on the brink of sleep when the bed dips, and a bare hand curls gently against your cheek. In your half-dreams, you nuzzle into the touch with a languid sigh, feeling the air fan across his palm. Ghost is silent as he lays beside you, observing your restful face with half-lidded eyes. His mask lays on the table beside him, disposed along with his cloak and armor.

You see nothing when you’re roused by the sensation of him tucking you against him, the world engulfed in darkness. Hypnos whispers across your senses as your eyelids flutter, trying to discern the shape of him as he presses in close behind you. Ghost tucks his legs under yours, his massive frame curling around you and his nose burrowing into the junction of your throat and jaw, where he draws in a heavy breath.

“Sleep, mortal.” He whispers there, one massive arm wrapping across your front.

True to his order, and engulfed in the warm sensation of his body pressed against yours, you find the gossamer veil of sleep draw over you once more.

He’s gone again come morning.

You awake alone, and find yourself missing the presence of him.

The banquet hall is refreshed with food of all kinds- delicacies from far lands you’ve never traveled to. You spend an exorbitant amount of time in the baths, dozing gently as steam billows around you. In the library you find a collection of war poems that you devour with eager eyes until the sun begins to slope towards the horizon, and oddly you do not find yourself entirely bored despite being alone in the massive pantheon to which he has left you.

Yet as darkness descends, you find yourself awake in his bed, waiting for him.

When he at last appears, as the moment where all light has drawn away from the horizon, the dark candles snuff out in a cold billow of wind. Plunged into darkness, the only sensation available to you is a hand caressing your cheek.

“Little bride.” He rumbles as the bed dips before you. “Were you so eager to see me you chose to forego sleep?”

Hesitantly, you raise a hand to press his own against your face, feeling the immense size of it dwarf your own.

“Yes.” You tell him in a scarce whisper, as if you’re revealing a tender secret. Your heartbeat thrums loud in your ears, fluttering inside the cage of your ribs as he draws closer. You try to remember the words you had meant to say- a thank you for saving you? Awe at the splendid riches allowed to you? A quiet plea to leave, one which you don’t truly mean?

You reach forward in the darkness, finding the shape of him broad and strong against your palm. There’s smooth skin of scars that litter his immortal flesh, across the wide breadth of his chest, down to his waist, traced across his arm and shoulders and the massive span of his back. He’s bare to you, and you can’t suppress a shiver at the mere thought that you are laying with a God.

“You’re frightened.” He notes at the shake in your hands, attempting to draw away from you.

“No.” You tell him, a hand gripping tighter to his to prevent his retreat. Words clog your throat, lips parted with breath as you feel his coal-dark eyes bore into you in the inkinesss of his chambers.

“Touch me.” You whisper instead.

When he bends to you, he swallows the sigh that pours past your lips.

Ghost defiles you in the way warriors do- pure strength tempered by careful restraint. You splay under him bare, his hands smoothing over your flesh like admiring a masterful weapon. He memorizes the curves and softness of you, humming notes low and deep into your skin as he drinks in your scent like ambrosia. He spends his time admiring the outline of you in the darkness, fingers dipping between your legs and spreading you over large, calloused fingers until you mewl and grip at the fine silk sheets.

“Sweet little thing.” He rumbles, pleased, as you offer him high, keening moans, head tossed back against the pillows. Wetness dribbles down your thighs, coats his hand just as he licks greedy and hot into your open mouth that chants his name. His towering frame bends over you, hauls you to his waiting hands with hardly any effort. Your hands scrape against his shortly shorn hair as he lays claiming bites across your throat and collarbone and Ghost moans against your skin like the pain and pleasure are twin beings.

“Ghost.” You chant in a hymn as his worshipers do when his clever tongue drinks down your arousal at your entrance, and the answering growl that he responds with sends pleasure fissuring down your spine like the earth split open. His hands hold you still as you buck and writhe with your climax, broken sounds filling the empty chamber so loud you think your shout can be heard at the far reaches of the palace.

He shushes you when at last he sheathes himself inside you, the girth of him splitting you wide enough you whimper into his chest. Yet he holds you to him, noses into your hair and whispers low, soothing words as your legs quiver.

“Good.” He purrs as you go pliant against him with a keening sigh, arms looped around his neck and nails digging into the flesh of his spine. “Perfect little bride. They were right to offer you to me.”

You think the nectar of the gods must taste like the glide of his tongue when he kisses you.

Ghost plays the symphony of your flesh like poets play the harp. His massive frame hunches over yours, the sheets tangled around you and his fingers entwined with your own. Each roll of his hips has you choking on a plea, has him huffing hot breaths and growling filthy praises in your ear.

“Made for me. Just me.” He groans, voice grinding deep in his chest as he ruts into you. Slow, measured, infuriatingly not enough. The drag of him inside you threatens to pull you under into madness as you mewl and squirm, desperately chasing the touch of him. “Made to take me, made to be in my bed, in my palace.”

It’s possessive, almost wild with the force of his claiming you. You go to him willingly, tears watering your eyes as you choke on a sob of pleasure. Yet it’s not enough, as he draws your pleasure higher, higher, burning you alive like the inferno of the heavenly sun but refusing to push you over the precipice. You plead his name, dig your fingers into the dip of his spine, ask for divine mercy that he keeps just beyond your mortal reach.

“Say my name.” He tells you, the sound of your coupling echoing out into the chamber- wet and debauched along with your desperate gasps.

“Ghost.” You sob, clinging helplessly to him, laying kisses upon his bare face in the darkness as an offering to the altar of him. “Ghost.”

In return, Ghost bestows upon you your own name, snarling it wild and feral against your lips as you at last fall apart beneath him. You choke on a cry of his name as something great and tender snaps abruptly inside you, races outwards along your limbs with such sudden ferocity you wonder for a moment if you’re been burned alive. Yet the pleasure itself drowns you like the deep and bottomless ocean- a surrender where you try to claw your way to the surface and instead allow the depths to take you.

Ghost growls as he buries himself fully inside the wet clutch of your heat, emptying inside your heaving form with a long, low groan. You feel the spend on him leak from your joining, collapsing against him as you try to remember how to breathe. Ghost adjusts so you lay sprawled atop his broad chest, rising slow and purposefully beneath you as you tuck your head under his chin.  A war-worn hand strokes lazy paths against your skin, and you hear him hum with a deep satisfaction at your consummation. You feel claimed in the best of ways, not as one of his beloved war trophies but as his.

When you finally grow restful against his chest, you prop your chin up and try to find the shape of him in the darkness. He’s absent of his mask, you know, and curiously you try to discern his features in absolute blindness. You wonder if he’s as handsome as you dare to dream.

“Why can I not see you?” You ask in a whisper, and Ghost’s hand stills where it traces along the ridge of your spine. He’s tense, and it startles you when he speaks with his voice pitched low, authoritative in a way he’s never spoken to you before.

“As long as you remain here, you will never see my face.” He tells you, his chest vibrating under your palms. “I will care for you, protect you, and you will be mine, but you never see me. Understood?”

You don’t, really, understand. Confusion wrinkles your brow at the enigmatic declaration, but Ghost eases under you as you nod anyways, and the comfort of his gentle touch resumes, and assuages you of your worries until you fall asleep.

In the morning he lingers in your marital chambers, the pale light of dawn glinting off the armor he has donned before you awoke. He sits at the edge of the bed, a bone white gauntlet stroking with surprising gentleness across your brow. You catch it with your palm, kiss across his ivory knuckles as he huffs a warm breath of affection.

“I will return.” He tells you softly, and steps towards the balcony, only to vanish in a billow of smoke.

You lounge in bed in his absence, feeling the pleasurable soreness of your lovemaking imbue itself in your muscles and limbs. Even after a full rest you find yourself exhausted, and it isn’t long before you curl back into the sheets until the chariot of the sun reaches its zenith. Even then, you wince to yourself as you creep from bed, roused by your empty stomach and the mess between your thighs. You don’t make it farther than the basin at the edge of the room before your legs threaten to fail you, and you resign yourself to a few sips of water and washing what you can before collapsing back into bed.

You’re still there when he returns, and Ghost pauses when he hears your empty stomach, hums with dissatisfaction when you tell him of your troubles. With no effort at all, he lifts you into his arms and walks in the way gods do- only several long strides before you find yourself at the baths. Candles cast shadows against the walls, dancing hypnotically as Ghost deposits you at the edge of the water, pausing to disrobe himself of all but his mask before once more lifting you and walking into the baths with you in his arms.

The moan that bubbles up your throat at the heat that ensconses your weary limbs prompts a laugh from the God above you, who releases you only enough to reach for oils at the tiled edge. Ghost is careful, deliberate as he washes you, and despite your protests he insists, as if the act itself is another means of proving his devotion. Yet he can’t resist grazing a rough thumb over your nipples until you squeak, dipping his fingers between your thighs in slow, lazy circles until your legs tighten around his wrist.

Ghost takes you like that, holding you flush to him as his fingers work deftly inside of you, plucking at something bright and powerful until your voice fills the chamber with gasping, wanton pleas. You grip at him as you gush over his palm with your climax, a whimpering sound caught in your chest as he lauds affections into your slick skin.

When you are at last clean and sated, Ghost wraps you in his own cloak before you find yourself in the banquet hall with grapes being lifted to your lips. You know the tale of the goddess taken to the netherworld and having eaten the fruit there, know it meant forever tying herself to a place of death. Yet as your lips close around his fingers as the morsels are fed to you, you can think of no other realm in which you’d rather be.

and silently, you wish you could see the face of the man who has taken you as his bride.

The days are spent as such. You become accustomed to the palace, teaching yourself its interior so you can navigate it blind. You spend hours in the baths, dozing with your head cradled by your arms on the tiled edge. You devour the poems in the library and write your own thoughts on parchment beside them which you find in boundless supply. In the afternoons before Ghost returns you walk on long strolls through his gardens which seem ever changing, blooming with iridescent blossoms and fragrant lilies bright like starlight. You find a harp which seems to offer no sour note despite your lack of familiarity, and wind beautiful music through the obsidian and onyx halls of his home. You find yourself wanting for nothing- not food or shelter or finery of any nature. In return, you offer your love to the God who has claimed you, and to you he returns the same.

Ghost returns to you at sunset, and most nights find your form tangled with his as he takes you whimpering and breathless against the sheets. He seems to know your body like a swordsman knows his blade, invents new ways to pluck at your desire until the only thing you can offer him is reedy, desperate sounds of his name, reminding him you are his. Afterwards he tends to you, and even then you kiss the other shell of his mask as steam billows around you in the baths as your bare bodies embrace. 

You find yourself increasingly nocturnal if only to spend the long hours of darkness in his company, talking and touching in the absence of any illumination. You ask him of the poems in his library, of the trophies that adorn his palace, of the emptiness between these walls and how he bore the loneliness that came before you. You ask him of the offerings given to him by his worshippers, of immortality and all things of a god-like nature.

You never ask him to show his face.

Instead you map it with delicate touches in the darkness, trying to instill in yourself an image of his likeness behind the mask. His jaw is strong, and along it you think you feel the smooth skin of another scar that snakes up towards his ear. His hair is short, and you wonder if it is the same dark color as his ember stare. His lips are soft as they press to your skin, as if he himself is the acolyte to your divinity.

As the weeks turn into seasons, and the high winds of autumn reach the mountaintop, he tells you of how he became a God.

Gods are not born. They are chosen, he says. Those of great valor, of devotion and strength are lifted into the pantheon and blessed with immortality, with divinity beyond that of human comprehension. Outliving those who once knew them as human, their legends are inscribed in the songs and poems, spoken of in many tongues until their following becomes great and loyal.

When you ask him with quiet reverence how he became immortal, Ghost’s form goes rigid with something you think can only be fury.

“I was betrayed.” He tells you, voice filled with murderous intent.

He tells you how he was once a soldier- a warrior that some claimed was already a demi-god. Yet he was mortal when his commander betrayed him, abandoned him on a hill of battle upon which Ghost was buried beneath a pile of rotting corpses, slowly suffocating under the weight of dead men. He had clawed himself free with savage intent, feeling rage become the only emotion known to him. It had taken days for him to free himself of the putrid flesh and decay that surrounded him, and it was only once he stood upon the pile of death that he breathed in his first gasp of immortality. The wrath became him, and he became wrath, or so the legends are said.

When you ask him how long ago this was, Ghost does not answer you.

You try not to think of what will happen when he witnesses your final, mortal breath.

and you try not to wish to see his face before you die.

“Are you hideous?” You ask him teasingly, drawing circles on his bare chest as his fingers idly soak themselves in the spend between your legs.

“Far from it.” He replies dryly, and you place a giggling smile upon his grinning lips.

You try not to dwell on it. There is so much you have to be grateful for, after all. A warm bed, a blazing hearth, clothes, a home, food, endless entertainment, and most importantly a husband who swears his devotion to you every sunset.

Yet in the daylight you find yourself missing him, and in the hollow place of his absence you try not to let temptation take root in the emptiness.

It’s on a cold morning when you find a snake in the garden.

You’re bent over a swath of coal-dark dahlias when you hear it slither behind you. When you turn, you’re greeted with mahogany dark eyes and shimmering green scales. Yet even as you flinch away the serpent doesn’t deign to chase you, regarding you curiously as it speaks in sibilant, seductive words.

“I see the God of Wrath has found himself a muse.” A feminine voice purrs, amused. “Which mortal realm did he steal you away from?”

“I wasn’t stolen.” You retort, shying away as the snake curls closer around your bare feet. “I was an offering.”

Sinister, the snake laughs at you. “And has he refused to let you leave? Are you too afraid to try? He may kill you, hermosa.”

“He wouldn’t.” You manage, tucking yourself up on a pedestal where your dress drapes over the edge. “He loves me.”

“Oh?” The snake asks, curling around the base of the stone, where the light reflects upon its shimmering body. “Are you sure, little muse?”

“Of course.” You reply quickly, even though a shadow casts longer upon your heart with every word spoken by the serpent.

The snake hums thoughtfully, winding itself around the stone slowly, until at last it raises its smooth head to the level of your gaze.

“Then why hasn’t he shown you his face?”

You falter at that, hugging your knees defensively and brow furrowing with dismay. The serpent plucks at the secret doubt inside you that you quietly tuck away at every sunset, that you feel thrum under your fingers as you trace the planes of his face in darkness. You try to conceal it, hardly ever speak of it, but you can’t help but wonder why Ghost refuses to show himself to you.

“Maybe he’s a monster.” The snake goes on. “Grotesque and rotten. The only way he can have your love is if you never see him.”

That can’t be true. Your husband is beautiful and strong, and you know even if he was hideous you would still love him for his fierce protectiveness and tender care. Even if his visage was obscured by scars of battle past, you would still love him.

“He doesn’t trust you, little muse.” The snake hisses quietly, and it sounds strangely pitying, a sadness which you feel plays upon the harp strings of your ribs. “Can you truly be wed to a man who does not believe in you?”

“Ghost loves me.” You repeat in a whisper, mostly to yourself.

“If that were true, he would love you even if you saw his face.” The snake offers, tongue flickering in your ear.

Something dark and viscous simmers in your stomach like tar, and you further hunch in on yourself, uncertain.

“Away with you.” You say at last, refusing to look at the serpent, who laughs wickedly as she winds herself into the bed of dahlias, and vanishes.

That night, when Ghost lays with you, the whisper of his affections feels sour against your skin.

You lay awake even as he sleeps behind you, his massive form curled around you and bracketing you in his warmth. The darkness looms long inside your thoughts, where the words of the serpent echo into the void where light fails to illuminate the face of your husband.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me.

Yet you know of Ghost’s warning, his oath that you will no longer be his if you see his face. To risk the love he has given you for such a temptation seems sacreligious, a sin for which there is no return.

He doesn’t trust you, the snake whispers.

In the morning, you feign sleep while you hear him depart to realms unknown.

He’ll return after dark. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

You do not find the snake in the garden.

He doesn’t trust you.

“You’re mine.” He huffs, dark and deep against your lips in your bed that night, and you shield your cry of desperation behind a moan. You give everything to him, your entire being, lay it bare before him as the offering you are, knowing he will keep you safe and love you with fierce devotion the way warriors love their oaths.

He loves you.

He leaves at dawn.

but he doesn’t trust you.

The wick burns against your fingertips as you light it.

You approach the bed with silent steps, your bare feet skimming across the stone as they did in the temple at the altar as you’d sacrificed yourself to him.

He loves you.

He’d taken you, spared you, made you his bride. He gave you his palace and all the treasures within, and with it came his love.

You see the broad, scarred plane of his back as you draw closer.

He hides behind a mask, refuses to let you see the one thing that nobody else has ever seen. Not even you, his offering, his bride, his muse, his beloved.

The candlelight illuminates his face.

and you feel your breath catch tightly in your chest.

He’s breathtaking.

The word ‘divine’ does not compare to his likeness, with his eyes closed and his lips parted in sleep. His alabaster skin shielded from the sun is written with scars, but the stories told by them seem like the songs of great poets, wild and magnificent in the way of feral things. Long, blonde lashes swoop gently over his cheeks, still rosy with the exertion of your lovemaking, face slack and open in his slumber.

He’s the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen.

Even when his dark eyes open, look upon you with despair, he’s still beautiful.

“No.” Ghost speaks in a tone you’ve never heard, full of grief, and it stabs through you like a blade. “How could you?”

“Ghost-” You try, reaching for him as he raises himself from bed, drawing to his full height and towering above you. Yet your fingers are just short as he draws away, towards the balcony.

“Leave.” He tells you, his voice hardening with fury as a cold wind begins to billow around his form, cast in starlight.

“No-” You try, panic bubbling up your throat as you try to move forward to him, pleas for forgiveness upon your lips. “Ghost-!”

“LEAVE.” Ghost bellows as smoke churns wildly about his immortal form, the cold wind slicing against your skin and preventing you from drawing near.

“I love you!” You cry in desperation as tears form, and the mantle of his cloak descends upon his shoulders, bone white replacing his face.

Ghost doesn’t respond, not as he becomes wrath, not as his eyes look upon you with betrayal and despair. You try to move forward, to touch him once more, but when you reach out your hand, skim your fingers against the outline of him-

He’s gone.

As the cold wind retreats, and with it your husband, you collapse to the floor and wail with your despair.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon x reader #simon riley x you #my fic #my writing #call of duty x reader #cod x reader

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - surprise visit modern au!

an unfamiliar secretary won’t let you into the building to visit your husband, Miguel, at his office

Visiting your husband at work may as well be the best way for you to spend your day off. He’s been working hard, his passion truly bursting at the seams when he talks to you about the latest improvement project he’s been working on for the past three weeks. 

You’re walking down the sidewalk in an outfit you knew would make Miguel go crazy, holding a nice bouquet of flowers in your arm. You decided men don’t get flowers enough, so you’re here to fill in that gap. He really deserves more than flowers anyway. 

With the badge embedded into your watch, you scan your wrist against the access monitor on the wall. The doors automatically open, and you feel a nice gust of air conditioning run into you. 

The office is very modern, clean, and sleek. All around you are advanced units of technology; a result of your husband’s successes. It smells the same it always has; clean, crisp, and slightly minty. As you walk through the doors, you’re greeted with the exact same things you always are; same lounge chairs, same grand elevator... 

Though, you don’t recognize the secretary at the desk. 

She’s blonde, red lipstick smeared onto her tight lips in an unwelcoming frown. A matching pearl set adorned over her crisp, dark blue blazer. 

Usually, you’d say hi to the secretary you knew, Lyla. You assume she got fired, which was a real shame, you love her sass. She was always so kind to you, saying hi with a smile, or offering to help guide you through the office and such. 

But instead, you walk right past the desk, digging through your memories to find how you managed to find Miguel’s main office last time. 

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?“

Her voice is just as snarky as you had imagined. 

“Visiting Miguel?“ You pause, your patience already growing extremely thin for the new secretary. You’d probably chat about this to Miguel later, maybe bat an eyelash or two to convince him about hiring someone different. 

“Nuh uh! Miguel O’Hara is busy right now, not open for any visitors at the moment.“ She replies, fixating her eyes on the large monitor in front of her. 

You pause for a moment, critically thinking things through for a moment. 

“Oh! I get it. M’am, you haven’t met me before, have you?“ You ask, trying your best to not crinkle the flowers in your hands. She raises a single eyebrow, glaring as if you insulted her mother. (Which, you might as well should do.)

“I’m Miguel’s spouse. He lets me visit him whenever, I even have my badge right here-“

She holds up a single manicured finger. 

“Nice try, but my charts right here say that Miguel is busy at the moment. Try another time, maybe send him a fan letter or something.“

Your blood starts to boil as the new secretary has a satisfied smirk on her face. 

Instead of choosing violence and risking your hair getting ruined, you opt for the better option. Glaring at the desk manager directly in the eye, you pull out your cellphone from your pocket, manually pressing the contact button for Miguel. You wait for the phone to dial, pressing the cellular to your ear whilst examining your own nails. 

And finally, he answers. 

“Hm? You need something, honey?“

“Miguel.“

Miguel on the other line, freezes to a halt. Now, he knows he’s in trouble. Carefully, he clears his throat. 

“What is it, sweetie?“

You take a deep breath. “Your... secretary isn’t letting me into the office. Will you fix that, please?”

Miguel pinches between his eyebrows, groaning. 

“Of course, hun. I’ll be down in a sec.“

“Thank you, Miguel.“

The call ends, but the secretary still stares at you like you’ve thrown up all over her salad. She almost looks like she’s going to laugh, which makes you even madder. 

Within literally a few seconds, the elevator whirs to a halt, the top light switching on with a chime. As expected, your husband walks through the sliding doors, clad in a crisp white dress shirt and office pants. He’s so undeniably gorgeous, you almost consider forgiving the secretary. 

But, you don’t. 

“Ah, Miguel, this p-“

“Shut your mouth for moment, would you?“

The woman is taken aback, red bursting onto her cheeks as her fake smile melts into a frown. Her mouth is left agape, watching as Miguel saunters over to you with a smile. 

“What happened?“ Miguel asks, his Office Face™ dissolving into a genuine smile. He slots his hands to your waist, silently peering at the flowers in your arms. 

“Well, I was going to come surprise you... but then she said that you were busy.” You reply, pouting. 

“Aww, baby, it’s okay.“ He smooches the top of your head. “The flowers are pretty. I’ll handle this.“

Miguel then swerves around, this time with his Office Face™ on. He keeps his hand glued to your side, each step of his getting louder and louder as he makes his way towards the desk. 

“Tiffany.“

Tiffany, in question, shudders, keeping her eyes glued to the floor while a shit-eating smirk finds its’ way onto your face. No remorse whatsoever. 

“From now, until tonight, please let my partner into the building whenever they like.“

“Yes, sir. Why until tonight?“ 

“Because I’m firing you from any future stand-in’s, or any sort of work in here for the matter.“

Miguel: 1 Tiffany: 0

Tiffany looks like she has so much she wants to say, so much that she could scream at this very moment... but instead, she stays silent. You can see a vein practically ready to burst at her temple, her jaw grinding her teeth in her mouth. 

“I will dismiss you at the end of the day, Tiffany. I expect you to cause no more trouble until then.“

Tiffany is left utterly speechless, her jaw left slightly agape. Miguel ushers you by your back towards the elevator, poking and prodding his finger at the flowers in your grasp. 

Automatically, the elevator doors smoothly slide open, and you both step inside. You stare at the glass view outside, watching as the two of you get higher and higher above the city.

“I even had my badge, and she didn’t let me.“ You frown, indulgently leaning into Miguel’s chest. 

“I’m sorry, hun. Lyla’s out sick for a bit, so she was the only substitute I could find for today.“

Apologetically, he rubs your back, secretly praying that you’d forget about the whole ordeal so you’d pay attention to him instead. 

“S’okay. Thank god Lyla wasn’t fired.“ You mumble, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“She’s annoying, but she does her job well.“ Miguel remarks, and you gasp, personally offended on behalf of your beloved Lyla. 

“No she’s not! She’s super nice, actually.“

“Whatever.” Miguel scoffs. “Kiss me.”

“No. You called Lyla annoying.” 

these oneshots have really skyrocketed my account! thank you guys so much for the positive feedback, i love loveee reading all the comments i get! please stay tuned for more!

- cosmosis <333

© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara spider man #spider man #spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #lyla #atsv lyla #lyla across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv #x reader #reader insert #fluff #romance #cosmosis-writes ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

[amuromi]

★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 9.9k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! heian era!au, concubine!reader, true form!Sukuna, unprotected sex, established relationship (married), canon typical violence, era typical misogyny/gender roles, unhealthy obsession, mentions of death, mentions of cannibalism and blood, (Sukuna is a lunatic), Sukuna is referred to exclusively as “Lord Sukuna”

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ I got a bit carried away with this one. My love of psychological horror was clawing to be free but I think I kept it pretty contained…

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 ✦ ⋆˙ engawa ┈ a hallway-like path surrounding the house ⋆ shoji ┈ a sliding door/divider ⋆ koto ┈ a Japanese zither/stringed instrument

The winter storm has leached everything into bleak shades of black and white, like ink on parchment. The trees are thick black strokes against the deep gray clouds, dusted with a thick layer of snow as flurries fall like stars through the courtyard. In the moonlight each snowflake shines like pearls, soft and lustrous as they dance on the wind. From the edge of the engawa it almost looks like staring into the great gaping mouth of a beast that’s swallowed the world, spears of ice hanging like jagged teeth from the edge of the roof, the wind shuddering through the estate in howling gusts. The cold night is scented with dreams of spring, sweet smelling coal burning in braziers, wafting gray wisps of floral-scented smoke into the wind. 

It’s quiet aside from the sharp whistling of the wind and the hissing of snow melting over hot coals, then, somewhere within the estate, a bell tolls for the Hour of the Rooster. Nightfall, despite the veil of darkness already laid out by the storm clouds. Suddenly there’s the sound of footsteps soft as summer rain, pattering through the estate and the shoji begin to blossom with the warmth of firelight as candles are lit throughout the sprawling house. More snow gathers in soft sheets over the courtyard before there’s a gentle knock to announce a soft-footed servant coming to renew the braziers and light the lanterns. The scent of lavender is renewed as the coals are sifted and replaced and the engawa is streaked with blushing shades of gold as the pink-tinged paper lanterns are lit in turn. 

Of all the rooms in the vast estate, yours is the most adorned. Which is to say, it looks as though your room is used for more than sleeping. There’s a modest desk with inks and paper, a small table for combs and perfumes, and a trunk for miscellaneous things beside the chest of drawers filled with kimono. When she’s lit the last lantern, you ask the girl to send for your personal maid. A dowry servant, though not originally one of yours. Life in this estate is fleeting in that way. 

An unbalanced teacup had been the undoing of the girl your father sent to accompany you in your marriage. Stained silk and scalded skin, later soaked with splatters of blood. But the tatami were changed and the kimono and girl were replaced. Your new maid is a bit older–a few years your senior–originally belonging to a woman that came before you. Certainly not First Mistress because she would loathe to see you even look upon anything of hers. No, she served a less honored concubine that wasn’t worthy of the title “wife,” even if it’s a hollow honor in itself. Still, your maid had belonged to the unknown mistress before she perished. It all happened before you were brought to the estate, but the haggard weight of the loss still sits heavy on her shoulders. Her face always looks like a crumpled piece of paper that someone tried to smooth flat, creased with hidden worries. She arrives quickly, kneeling to await her orders. 

“I’m happy,” you tell her. “A new Mistress is joining the family tonight, isn’t that right? Happy news.” The maid hums something to the tune of affirmation, long since grown used to your unflinchingly jovial disposition. She once asked if you wear a smiling mask throughout the day and take it off once you sleep. It’s a silly question, of course, but you like to imagine that you smile even in your sleep. There is nothing to be sad about. Living a life such as this is no different than a deer grazing in a meadow. There is nothing beyond the grass. Nothing farther than the horizon or higher than the tallest tree. What is there to be sad about when the world has been folded into something small enough to hold in your hands, a piece of origami meant to be appreciated and not pondered. There’s happiness in the simplicity that this life provides, though you seem to be the only one to realize it. 

The other two Mistresses of the house say that you should be locked up in a rice chest and left out to die. That it’s cruel to let you live in such a state of delusion. How little they know, yet it’s still too much. At times, it seems that they are far deeper in their minds than you’ve ever been. Caught up in worries and tribulations that haven’t plagued you in a long time, since you let go of your humanity. What use is pretending to be human when you’re treated like a pet. Treasured and pampered but still inferior to the master of the house. Because your husband has no true use for human brides. In keeping the three of you, he has honored each of your families with the knowledge that their blood has produced something too intriguing to kill off just yet. Perhaps if he desires an offspring to assume his legacy he’ll have a true use for one of you. 

Other brides have been offered and had their families culled like squashing bugs. It made you feel some air of superiority, knowing that you were chosen from a dozen women to be honored as a new wife to the King of Curses. It only took a few months for you to realize your place in all this and the last thread of your humanity snapped like a frayed koto string. Thinking of yourself as a person is useless when the person that holds your life within his hands sees you as no more than a doll to be toyed with as he sees fit. 

“I’m happy.” You always mean it when you say it. Happiness is all you have left when faced with the truth of how finite your existence is. There is no world beyond the walls of this estate. No people beyond its residence and staff. No purpose outside of serving your husband with unwavering loyalty. In that regard you are the most precious of his wives. The others, their devotion wavers. You’ve seen it in the way they still hesitate to follow simple instructions, still tremble and shrink in Lord Sukuna’s presence even as you bloom like a flower in the light of the sun. He is your sun. There is no life without him. Which is why you are happy to simply exist in this small world that he’s made for you. 

His power has greatly uncomplicated your existence, turned it to something purposeful, something that will end when you’re no longer of use. And Lord Sukuna will always tell you when you serve no further purpose to him. How many underlings has he executed because they were no longer of use? You imagine they must’ve felt great pride in the moments before their demise at the hands of their King. Pride in knowing that they did what they were made to do. As a child you had scoffed at the idea that your only purpose was to be wed and serve your husband as a proper wife should, but that was when the husband of your future was set to be someone unremarkable. Lord Sukuna is greater than any man that’s ever lived. Perhaps even ascended beyond the concept of a man to become the strongest sorcerer to ever live. As the daughter of a highly regarded family known for birthing remarkable sorcerers, you take pride in your small but purposeful place in all this. The culling of clans, the clashing of factions trying to unseat your husband. History will remember you because you will play your part until the very end. An end you’ll greet with a smile if it should come by your husband’s hand. 

“Will the Fourth Mistress be here soon?” A new deer to join the herd, a new flower planted in the garden. 

“By the Hour of the Bird, the last message said.” Your maid agrees. Soon, a new Mistress will be here. It’s been so long since another woman has joined hands with Lord Sukuna. The last being yourself nearly two years ago. First Mistress had been collected three years ago, and Second Mistress came along only a short few months behind her. Lord Sukuna had waited half a year after that to marry a third wife, and you must’ve served him well because there’s been no need for another until now. It makes you wonder if death is close at hand. A raven had come earlier in the day, before the snow began to fall, announcing that Lord Sukuna would be returning from his excursion by nightfall. Perhaps he wanted to arrive home in time to greet his new bride. 

Fourth Mistress. Unlucky number Four, terrible number Four. Blowing into her marriage with a snow storm. It’s all terribly inauspicious, but Lord Sukuna has reason for everything he does. Nothing is without purpose. Even death has cause when dealt by his hand. Even if it comes tonight you will go towards it fully satisfied. The snowfall looks beautiful, and the cold isn’t so terrible with the legion of braziers burning around you and the thick furs draped over your shoulders. It’s a wonderful night to die if it should come to that. 

“Shall we go welcome her?” 

“First Mistress insisted that you need not be present for Fourth Mistress’ arrival, your highness.” First Mistress, Jurina, whose hatred towards you cannot be quelled by any manner of platitudes. 

When you first arrived, you’re sure it was mere jealousy that compelled her to act out against you. A multitude of wives is not uncommon among high ranking men, but rarely is it expected that they should all live together. Most wives are left in their parents’ homes to be visited whenever their husband deems it fit. To walk the hall of your home and come across the woman your husband sees when he is not with you must be jarring to the first woman he married. Jurina seemed adamant about dispelling you from the family upon your first arrival. Now, her animosity isn’t borne of jealousy, but discomfort. 

Your happiness makes her nervous. She’s said it herself. Snapping and raging at you for your unflinching smile even as she and Second Mistress have slowly begun to lose themselves in the monotony of this life. Sitting and waiting, then serving when Lord Sukuna comes home. To them, your complacency, your happiness, is something eerie and othered. Akin to the curses your families seek to eradicate. Unnatural. Inhuman. Though it hardly matters what they think of you. They are not your reason for being, and Lord Sukuna seems to find your smile charming. 

Despite the chill, you find yourself reaching for a fan. A gift from Uraume. They’re strangely doting towards you in a way that they aren’t to Lord Sukuna’s other wives, bringing you gifts when they accompany Lord Sukuna on long trips away from the estate. A set of calligraphy brushes, a jade bracelet, a new kimono. You’ve amassed quite a collection of possessions by Uraume’s spoiling, though the fans are your favorite. All made a beautifully lacquered wood, some painted with gilded designs, the folded paper painted by the hands of careful artists. Crashing waves and blossoming trees decorate each of your fans and you take great pride in keeping them all in pristine condition because you’d hate to perform a dance with a damaged fan. 

Of all of the things filling your room, your koto is the most precious. It had belonged to your mother and she offered it with teary eyes as your wedding gift, absolutely bereft that she had to marry her daughter off to a monster to appease the head of your father’s clan. But such was your purpose in being born into a highly acclaimed sorcerer clan. Take your blood and lend your body to another clan so that you might make more powerful jujutsu users. Your father had complained of the waste in sending you off to quell the King of Curses, insisting that sending you to Lord Sukuna would be a waste of a bride. Curses have no use for brides nor, truly, does their King. Still, Lord Sukuna keeps all of you alive and well in his home. To what end? It’s hardly your concern. 

“Bring my koto,” you hum. “I want to dance.” 

The maid goes about carrying the large stringed instrument to the edge of the room where the opened shoji separates the warmth of your room from the chill of the engawa. It is a happy coincidence that your maid had been taught to play the koto some years ago when she was still an eligible maiden. But her father grew ill and when he passed her mother sent her off to find work to support herself because she couldn’t afford a dowry to marry her off properly. So she sits and serves, waiting for you to name your song of choice with her fingers poised over the strings. The song you choose is one of comfort, the first your mother ever taught you when you were learning to dance and play. There’s a practiced grace to your movements, smooth as a flowing river as you dance with your fan. The song is short but it is always your favorite to perform. 

A rare beauty in the north, she’s the finest woman on earth. A glance from her, the city falls. A second glance leaves the nation in ruins. There exists no city or nation that has been more cherished than a beauty like this.

Flecks of snow melt against the bare nape of your neck, so cold it feels like burning, but you want to keep dancing. The weather has no bearing on your mood. Rain or shine you are happy to sing and dance, amusing yourself as you wait to be of use to your lord husband. Perhaps he has already returned home along with his new bride but without the order to accompany him you will stay in your room, performing to your heart’s content. Your maid begins to pluck out the notes of your next song request, fingers stuttering over the strings as if she’s forgotten how to play the melody. That’s alright, you will dance even without proper music, swinging your fan with practiced poise as your voice contests with the howling of the storm. It’s a song of longing and melancholy. Fitting for a woman separated from her husband. 

Are you going away? Leaving me alone? How could I live if you’ve gone away? Are you going away? Leaving me alone? I want to keep you unhappy with me. I fear you may never return. Sadly, I will let you go–

“Stop whining, I’m here.” A voice interrupts your singing, a smooth timbre that rumbles like a roll of thunder. So please, come back soon after you leave. In a heartbeat you’re on the floor, kneeling before your husband. Lord Sukuna is soiled from his travels. Kimono stained and torn, the scent of blood lingering heavily around him, along with the buzzing aura of excess cursed energy leaking into the cold air around him. 

“Welcome home, Lord Sukuna.” He purrs at how you prostrate yourself at his feet, always so satisfied with your absolute submission. He once told you your lack of fear was something intriguing, your unwavering adoration far more interesting than submission borne of fear. It’s something he’s found in so few of his followers and you imagine it’s why he shows such preference for Uraume’s company. Of all of your husband’s subordinates, they are by far the most devout. Perhaps even more than you because they know what Lord Sukuna is trying to achieve with all the calamity he causes. Your lord husband has never made you privy to that knowledge, and as a good wife you remember it is not your place to ask. If you are meant to know something, he’ll tell you. 

“Get out.” His voice is thick with something akin to revulsion, though you don’t bother to raise your head. Lord Sukuna hasn’t spoken to you so gruffly since you first proved your devotion to him. Behind you there’s the sound of frantic movements as your maid assumedly makes herself scarce in the presence of her master. When she’s gone Lord Sukuna gives you permission to lift your head. In the low light, you can hardly see his face. It’s hard to tell Lord Sukuna’s mood even in bright lighting. He hardly changes from his stoic expression unless there’s blood being spilled, then a smile–more like a deranged baring of his fanged teeth–finds its way onto his face. 

“Come bathe with me.” He doesn’t wait for you to react, already halfway down the engawa by the time you gather yourself enough to stand. Lord Sukuna traverses the estate with practiced ease, as if this was his childhood home and not all place of residence usurped from some affluent family. Though the perks of Lord Sukuna’s minions commandeering such a luxurious home for their leader and his family are the accommodations afforded to only the highest nobility. Because only families with more money than time to spend it can afford to build their home large enough to encompass a hot spring along with all the other necessary land. The air is humid around the bathhouse, curtained with steam as clouds of warm air seep out of the secluded space. 

Lord Sukuna stands expectantly at the edge of the rocks surrounding the steaming pool, waiting for you to fulfill your wifely duties. With great haste you begin to undress him. His kimono is ruined beyond repair, delicate white silk tattered and stained with browning patches of blood. Still, you take great care in folding each article as it’s removed from his body. There’s no added layers despite the inclement weather, no added underclothes beneath the outer layer of clothing. Your hands reach skin sooner than you expected, flinching away from the warmth of his muscles as if his skin were an open flame. Despite your status as his wife and your consequently intimate knowledge of his body, you still err on the side of caution when it comes to touching Lord Sukuna. He had only asked you to undress him, not to run your fingers over the corded muscles of his arms. Luckily, your husband seems unconcerned with the wayward touch. Instead of snapping at you he rolls his shoulders as if the layers of clothes had been restricting his movements. In all likelihood, they probably have. 

Lord Sukuna is something that is no longer human. A higher being ascended beyond the physicality of a normal man, as if his body could no longer handle the brunt of his power and needed to evolve to fit the newly emerging shape of his soul. Once, before you first laid eyes upon him, Lord Sukuna had the appearance of a mere man. An unremarkable face and body. But now he has become something beyond the shape of a human. “A two faced demon with four arms,” as the members of your clan had called him when talks of appeasing the great King of Curses began whispering through the halls of your maiden home. Of course his rumored differences held no bearing on whether or not the clan would be willing to sacrifice a bride to satisfy the Disgraced One. His four eyes and black markings make no difference to your devotion. He is still the husband you’ve dedicated your life to. 

Tentatively, you try to strike up a conversation as Lord Sukuna settles himself in the warm pool. “Has Fourth Mistress arrived yet?” 

“Yes, she arrived before I did. I expected you to be with the others, fawning over her. Why weren’t you?” His tone is calculated as if he is trying to decide if there is cause for punishment. Your next words are chosen carefully. 

“First Mistress did not think–it was requested that I not attend to Fourth Mistress’ arrival.” 

“Are you not my wife?” Lord Sukuna asks, annoyance thick in his tone. Of course you are. In this life you are nothing if not his wife. “I expect that you’ll act your part. The lady of the house is meant to greet guests upon their arrival. I don’t care what Jurina says. You’re of noble birth. You know the rules on how to conduct yourself. Act like it.” 

“Forgive me for speaking out of turn, my lord, but I am not the lady of the house. That is First Mistress Jurina’s title.” To go against your husband’s word is wrong, reason enough for him to lash out at you, but it is the truth that Jurina is always reminding you of. She is First Mistress, the matron of the estate. It is you that is a lowly concubine in comparison to her status as a legal wife. Lord Sukuna bristles at your insolence and you duck your head to receive your reproach. He’s a short distance away, submerged to his waist in the warm water, but Lord Sukuna can move like a striking snake. It would only take half a beat of your heart for him to reach you and tear it from your chest if he so desires it. 

Tonight’s admonishment is far less violent. Coming in the form of a disparaging growl before he snaps at you to undress. You do so with the same care that you disrobed your husband. As his wife, you are an extension of him, and you dare not mistreat his items in his presence. Once your clothes are folded you approach Lord Sukuna with hesitant steps. You’ve discovered that drowning and burning are the worst means of death and the boiling water of the hot spring is a combination of both. Still, if tonight will be wasted on death, at least it will come in Lord Sukuna’s arms. He reaches to help you into the water, drawing you close while his second pair of arms stay splayed on the rocks behind him. He moves you as he pleases like a doll being perched on a shelf, positioning you to straddle his thigh. 

“Look at me, woman.” His tone doesn’t sound angry, but that has never been a successful way to guess at Lord Sukuna’s intentions. He can execute someone with a smile. You hope he’ll offer you that same cruel grin when he pushes hot beneath the bubbling water. 

“I do not care what order I married any of you in. It should be clear by now that you are the woman of this house. First or third, it doesn’t matter. Jurina’s words hold no weight over you. Do I make myself clear?” There’s a franticness to the way you nod your head, chirping out a pinched “yes, Lord Sukuna!” as he holds your chin to keep your eyes on his. 

“You’re the only wife that matters to me, stupid woman. The rest,” he scoffs, “I wouldn’t spit down their throats even if their lungs were on fire. Even the new one. Jurina is nothing and no one. I will kill her right now if it will please you.” 

And that had been the original crux of Jurina’s jealousy. The priority with which Lord Sukuna always seemed to treat you. There were always rumors about the estate that you are the favored wife, the one that truly matters, but it is hard to believe rumors when Lord Sukuna hardly does anything to validate them. Though his constant quelling of his temper in your presence should be evidence enough. It’s a rare thing for your husband to lash out at you, but you always assumed it was simply because you were careful with your actions. Never giving him any reason to turn his ire against you. It’s plain to see now that the reason for your persisted well treatment is simple. You are his favorite wife. 

Possessive as he is, Lord Sukuna has favorites in everything. Cursed weapons that he favors over all others, and servants that he calls on more often than the rest. To know you hold weight among his most precious possessions is dizzying. Of course, to Lord Sukuna, a favorite thing is a useful thing. It’s easy to imagine that you’re the most useful of his four wives. Neither of your seniors have remarkable cursed techniques despite hailing from quite notable families in the hierarchy of the jujutsu world. And any technique they do possess is woefully untrained as is expected of women in the world of sorcery. Women of jujutsu-laden clans are meant to be vessels from which the next generation of male sorcerers are born, not taught to be sorcerers in their own right. 

It was only by a terrible coincidence that you were able to train your own technique. A jealous cousin and a well. A harsh push to your back after she whispered about how she should be the one to marry first despite her inferior talents as a homemaker. She got her wish, the husband she so covetously desired. Last you heard she’d been returned to your family’s estate after being set aside for a more fitting woman. 

When she pushed you, falling felt like flying and dying felt like burning as your lungs filled with water. In the end you’d spent nearly a week at the bottom of that seldom used well, floundering for your life as your cursed technique kept you in a constant loop of dying and reviving, bursting back to life stronger than when you died. Chrysalis is what your family had taken to calling your ability when you were finally fished out with a bucket of water. Death was something impermanent to you, though the manner of which you passed holds bearing on how long you’ll be stuck in your “cocooned” state. You imagine being killed by means of jujutsu would kill you properly, forever, but no one has been bold enough to try. Certainly not now that you are a treasured wife of the King of Curses. Though you’re sure Lord Sukuna will kill you eventually, when your purpose has been served. For now, it seems your purpose is to provide him with the comforts a wife can offer her husband. 

“Kiss me.” He commands, hand on your jaw already pulling you towards him. There’s never been anything delicate about Lord Sukuna as far as you could tell. He’s always had an air of harshness to him, something wild and untamed that bleeds into his every movement. You’ve decided it must be because he lives the same as you, unimpeded by the world around him. The King of Curses bows to nothing and no one, so why should he govern himself by the laws and morals of humanity. Kindness, restraint, it doesn’t seem to exist to your lord husband. The same way fear no longer exists to you. So when Lord Sukuna’s hand���large enough to hold your head in his palm–pulls you towards his fanged mouth, you feel nothing but unadulterated lust. It’s unbecoming of a woman to find herself so lost in her bodily whims but you’re no longer just a woman. You’re Lord Sukuna’s woman, and within the walls of his home, shame no longer exists. You melt against him as his sharp teeth find the softness of your lips. Blood spills between your open mouths, dripping down your bodies before dripping into the water with a soft tinge of pink. 

“Sweet,” he hums. 

It’s no secret that Lord Sukuna is prone to fits of bloodlust so blinding he’ll tear his teeth into anything soft he can find, no matter the origin of the flesh. Animal or human it’s all the same when he’s tearing his claws through a warm body. He’s mentioned sampling your body once. How he’s thought about tearing off bits and pieces of you to taste. Of course, he told you that he would only maim you in such a way as punishment for misbehavior–it hardly matters when death would only find you mended and made anew–though it hasn’t stopped him from sinking his teeth into you when he’s wrapped up in another kind of lust.

Usually imperceptible if you aren’t looking for it, the only sign of Lord Sukuna’s arousal stands proudly between your legs, so large they breach the surface of the water as he holds you steady in his lap. His upper arms are still splayed out on the stone behind him as he reclines as if he is seated on a throne. He’s shown you what a throne fit for the King of Curses would look like, but only once. In his domain. An infinite wasteland bathed in blood with a single shrine standing at its heart. A corrupted chinjusha of flesh and bone. All gaping maws and cracked skulls. A shrine dedicated to the only higher power Lord Sukuna will ever respect; himself. The strange mouth splitting a seam between his muscles always reminds you of his Malevolent Shrine, of the four grotesque mouths that stand where the four doors of a shrine would be. Its tongue is strangely textured, like that of a cat’s as it lolls out of his stomach to lap at your skin. Sometimes you find yourself wondering if Lord Sukuna has control over the appendage or if it acts of its own volition each time the grainy feeling drags over your body, but it isn’t your place to ask. Who has control or not, it doesn’t matter. Lord Sukuna is your husband and you relish even the smallest touch whether it’s intentional or not. 

“Are you going to please your husband?” He asks. The answer is always simple. Yes. It is your sole purpose now that he’s taken you as his wife and torn your world into the smallest pieces until only this single scrap remains. It’s becoming so precious no matter how small and defaced it becomes. Sometimes you wonder what would happen if you stepped out of line. Tried to leave the estate, tried to defy Lord Sukuna. In truth, you’ll never know. Your husband is your world and your world is your husband. Of course you will do everything within your power to please him. He seems satisfied with just the look in your eyes as you stare up at him, waiting for his next command. If it would please him you’d slash yourself open, spill your innards into his lap and watch him feast on your flesh. His true wish is far more gentle, something a more humble husband would ask of his bride. 

“Touch me.” His clawed hand is already guiding yours to his stiffness, wrapping your fingers over the length of him. It’s so strange that curses can bleed, but Lord Sukuna isn’t exactly a curse nor is he a human. He’s something more but his heart beats just the same. You feel it in your palm as his cock twitches in your grip, thick veins thrumming under his skin. Perhaps it’s the water or more likely it’s something innate to your husband because he always feels hot to the touch, his skin is nearly scalding as you wrap your hands around his twin cocks, fingers spread too wide to touch around his girth. Lord Sukuna looks pleased as he leans back, eyes watching you as if to catch a flaw in your presentation. A rogue frown or unintended scowl that would prove your supposed dedication false. 

Even after so long he’s waiting for you to break, to truly realize what you’re doing and be disgusted enough to shrink away. The only thing you feel at this moment is heady arousal. It pools like molten lava deep in your stomach, seeping between your legs and into the water. There’s been no permission given so you remain still, but your hips ache to shift against the strength of Lord Sukuna’s chiseled thigh, to relieve a bit of the tension his lingering gaze has caused. But his hand hasn’t strayed from your hip, in fact his grip has tightened with each stroke of your hands. There’s a stinging bite as his claws dig through your skin, burying deep enough to draw blood despite the composure still set in stone on his face. He is still a man in some regard. Still a husband enjoying the touch of his wife. The thought blooms sweetly in your chest, lifting a soft smile to your lips. Lord Sukuna notices in an instant, four eyes still trained on your face. He snatches your chin up, straining your neck with how quickly he guides your eyes towards his. 

“What are you smiling about, brat?” Another attempt to catch you in a lie, to find some falsehood in your contentment. Even your lord husband finds himself questioning if your happiness is true. You thumb over the head of one of his cocks, bringing the taste to your lips. And because he is watching you so intensely you make a coquettish show of dragging your tongue over the pad of your finger, gasping when Lord Sukuna’s fingers bury deeper into your delicate skin. There will be cuts and bruises when he’s done with you. There always are. Then your maid–or, on some occasions, Uraume–will come to tend to your body marked by your husband’s touch. You like the way your body burns when he’s through with you, memories of his touch simmering in your mind. He scoffs when you wrap your lips around your thumb. With a cruel smile he hooks his own thumb into your mouth, talon scraping against your tongue as he pulls your jaw until your mouth is as wide as you can bear with only the slightest twinge of pain. 

Drool pools in your mouth, dripping out of the corners as they sting with the strain of Lord Sukuna’s strength. He sneers, looking pleased with the mess you’re making as he leans down to lick it up before spitting it back into your open mouth. You nearly choke and rush to swallow with a rattling cough. It tastes like blood, likely your own though you wonder if your husband sank his teeth into something before coming to you. The blood on his clothes looked dry, though you can never be certain with Lord Sukuna. You banish the thought, thrilled with the way he no longer seems to be dividing his focus. 

Before he had looked uninterested, as if his mind was elsewhere even as he looked at you servicing him so happily. Now he’s leaned in close enough for you to see his eyelashes, a rare treat with his immense stature. He’s nearly all you can see, all you can feel and you revel in it as your world shrinks to this tiny pinprick. There’s nothing outside this bathhouse. Only the infinite nothingness that surrounds a domain. The world could come apart outside these four walls and you wouldn’t care as long as Lord Sukuna keeps you in his arms. As if he knows your thoughts, the very deepest desires of your heart, Lord Sukuna drags you up his leg by the hand still embedded in the fat of your hips and the feeling sings through your body as your clit catches against the firmness of his thigh. Your hands tighten around his cocks still pulsing in your hands, though his only reaction is the slightest twitch of his lip. 

“Am I doing a good job, Lord Sukuna?” You ask around his thumb, truly desperate for approval. If you were any more pitiful he might’ve pet your hair like a loyal hound. Instead he laughs, something short and sardonic as his teeth nip at your cheek. Warmth blooms then drips down the curve of your face and you know he’s broken skin once more. 

“Enough with the stupid questions. If you want my praise you know how to earn it. Show me how badly you want it and I might reward your efforts.” You slip from his lap, mourning the loss of his leg pressing between yours as you kneel in the water. It’s up to your neck as your knees meet the bottom of the pool, steam billowing like a veil in front of your eyes as you center yourself at the apex of Lord Sukuna’s thighs. He’s spread out above you like a proud effigy, a statue meant to be worshiped. You feel a transcendent kind of devotion kneeling at the feet of your lord husband. The taste of him lands heavy on your tongue as your lips tease at the head of his dick, swallowing him in slow increments. Despite the harsh preparation of your mouth, you still wish to savor every moment spent servicing your husband. 

His face is clouded in shadows again as he leans back, head tilted towards the ceiling. The lanterns flicker playful shadows across his body, highlighting and shrouding pieces of him as you bow to take him into your mouth in earnest. Your jaw still aches from the way he nearly unhinged it, but it works in your favor as your lips wrap around his length. 

There’s nothing dignified about the way you’re swallowing his dick, little focus being allotted to your own comfort as you take him as deeply as his size will allow. His body is strange, of course, but it’s all you’ve ever known of a man. Aside from Lord Sukuna you’ve never seen any man bared beyond his chest, although you know innately that humans aren’t meant to have the endowments he does. His second cock presses against your cheek, dribbling over your skin as you hollow your cheeks until Lord Sukuna’s thighs twitch. Muscles seizing tighter as the head of his cock meets the tightness of your throat. Breathing is far from your mind, a need secondary to pleasing your husband. It’s a messy endeavor and you loathe to think of how terrible you must look. It’s always been a point of pride to preen yourself to perfection because husbands like their women to look beautiful when they arrive home, or at least Lord Sukuna seems to prefer it. Though he never seems bothered by what is surely a horrid display as split slicks down your chin and tears dot along your lash line as you gag around his dick. 

Lord Sukuna flicks your forehead after a while, likely drawing another scratch between your brows. It’s a fraction of his power. It’s likely he could take your head apart as easily as squashing a peach under his heel yet he hardly puts effort behind the reproach. Only enough to draw your attention as he drags you, coughing and drooling, off of his cock. They’re both gathered into one fist so he can drag the taste of his leaking precum over your parted lips. 

“You know better.” Lord Sukuna does not take things in half measures. His intentions are clear. If you’re going to pleasure him, do it right and do it well. Your jaw pops open again, wide enough to take his twin cocks into your mouth. He stretched and strained your mouth but there’s only so much that can be done with the sheer size of him. And while he does well to shield his thoughts at the best of times, you imagine he must be gleaning a fair bit of pleasure from your messy sucking as his hand remains in your hair. His claws scratch against your scalp, gentle enough to keep your skin intact as he keeps your mouth wrapped around him. A burning type of exertion settles painfully in your jaw but you’ll endure. Lord Sukuna never likes to keep you like this for long. With both of his weeping cocks tangled between your lips you can hardly take more than the head of each. In the end, his preference will always be the wet heat brewing between your legs. Another bout of pain sings through your scalp as Lord Sukuna pulls your mouth away from him, leaving threads of spit dripping between your bodies. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, pressing against the grooves where his teeth bit into your skin until they begin to bleed anew.

He manipulates your body as if you’re merely a puppet dancing on strings. A flex of his arm and you’re lifting off your knees, hips stretched wide to accommodate the width of his body between them. His spit-laden cocks are pressed between your bodies, grinding into the soft expanse of your stomach as he pulls your bleeding mouth to his. He suckles at your torn skin, humming at the taste of your blood seeping onto his tongue. His hands find your hips, pressing into the marks he’s already left there as he hikes you higher against his body. The tongue lolling out of his stomach finds its way between your thighs, lapping at the mess that’s left after the water washed away the first wave of your arousal. It’s nearly too much with how textured the wide appendage is but you welcome any type of relief you can find as Lord Sukuna pulls your head to the side quick enough to send a stinging twinge up the column of your neck. The pain is only intensified as he noses against the soft curve where your neck meets your shoulder, as if he’s looking for something. 

His tongue sweeps over your skin before his fanged teeth make a home in it. There’s a rippling groan that thunders in his chest as a true taste of your blood spills into his mouth. Before long, your head is spinning from blood loss. Lord Sukuna must feel the change in your pulse as it turns slippery, harder to catch beneath your skin. He pulls away with a satisfied groan as his hands press your hips deeper into the expanse of his lower tongue. 

“Enjoying yourself, brat?” Lord Sukuna sneers, and because you have no sense of shame you find yourself nodding earnestly. He’s hardly touched you and what touches he’s shared have been steeped in equal parts pain and pleasure, yet you’ve enjoyed it all the same. It’s awkward and teasing because there’s no tact to the way his lower tongue moves between your legs. It’s like striking a flint without starting a fire, dull sparks of teasing pleasure that leave you wanting more. You’d rather have his face between your legs and a more dexterous tongue teasing you to the edge, but it would be presumptuous to make any kind of demands of your husband especially when he’s a man like Lord Sukuna. 

In most regards, your pleasure is incidental. Secondary to his own. So when his teeth snap over his claws, biting the sharp points into flattened nubs, you feel your excitement growing. He’s learned from experience that his rough treatment of your body should not extend to certain places. After only a few times he pressed his clawed fingers inside you, Lord Sukuna learned that it would better serve him if his nails were dulled before he went poking them inside you. And they’ll be grown back to full length by night’s end. He can manipulate the shape of his body as easily as fire melting snow. His hand smooths over the side of your body, sliding against your ribs and hips as he makes his way between your legs. His fingers plunge inside with little warning, forcing you open with a swiftness you could almost call desperation. If something so undignified could ever be said about the King of Curses. 

Lord Sukuna is a behemoth, dwarfing you in every regard, and his hands are no different. His fingers reach deep inside you, stroking over the place that has your back bowing as he makes space for himself inside you. He hums at how easily you take his fingers, sounding somewhere between amused and approving. It flutters through your chest and settles atop the arousal already building inside you. 

“Give your body to me, woman. Open yourself to your king.” You try to say something as he slips another finger inside you but it comes out as little more than a breathy whine. This is already too much and yet it can’t compare to how full you’ll feel when he gets his cocks inside you. His fingers are a luxury offered in preparation for his true reward and you take it happily. He smirks at the way your thighs strain as you try to grind against his touch. The heel of his hand is pressed tight against your clit and you buck your hips against the feeling. Lord Sukuna’s skin is thick, nothing like the softness of your own and it feels just the right amount of rough against your clit. One of Lord Sukuna’s hands finds your hair again, yanking hard until you’re looking up at him with tears shimmering in your vision. 

“There’s my spoiled brat. This is how you act. This is how the wife of a king is meant to be. Take what you want, woman, take everything I give you.” A dark laugh booms through the room as you whine and paw at Lord Sukuna’s chest. He adds another to the litany of scratches decorating your skin as his teeth nip at your neck, distracting you from the sting of another finger finding its way inside you. 

“You were made for this,” he reminds you. “Made to be mine. My bride. You can take it.” He sounds almost patronizing, voice softening to a teasing lilt as his thumb presses against your clit. Like with everything, Lord Sukuna is harsh, forcing you to the edge quicker than expected. Each curl of his fingers yanks at the string tightening inside you, pulling you closer and closer to the edge as he moves his hands with inhuman speed inside you. Everything is hard and fast and your thighs start to tremble in his hold, body shivering as Lord Sukuna all but wrings the orgasm out of your body. You clench hard around his fingers, pussy dripping down your thighs as you try to steady yourself with your hands on Lord Sukuna’s shoulders. He allows it, revels in it as he pulls you into another bloody kiss. But even as you tremble in his arms, Lord Sukuna doesn’t stop. His thumb is still circling your twitching bud even as you try to whine out a plea for mercy. It only brings a fanged smile to his lips. 

“Take it,” he grunts, “I know you can.” It really feels like you can’t. The tension brought on by your orgasm hasn’t dispersed and you feel like a knot being pulled ever tighter, back curling until your face is buried against his chest. He smells like the bath. Like sweet oils and wildflowers as your nose is buried against his scalding skin. With your forehead pressed against his chest your eyes have nowhere to look but down. Down at the way his cocks are straining to be touched, flushed and leaking just out of reach. You look up to distract yourself with the black markings etched into Lord Sukuna’s chest. Your kisses are sloppy, wet and open-mouthed as your tongue peeks out to trace the shape of each tattoo. It’s not until your teeth begin to nip at his chest that Lord Sukuna scruffs you once more. 

“Trying to leave a mark on me, brat?” As if you could. Your teeth are likely no different than trying to pierce his skin with a blade of grass. “What a greedy little bride I have. So eager to defer to another wife’s authority when you’re this possessive of your husband. Isn’t that right, woman?” You try to shake your head. Of course, you aren’t possessive of him, you know your place. You are the Third Mistress. Perhaps you are his favorite but there is a hierarchy that must be upheld in the household. To so brazenly try to claim full authority over your lord husband would be lunacy. There is no higher authority than the King of Curses himself. You’re simply a pebble lingering in the shadow of the highest mountain. 

“Yes you are,” he grins. You whine as he pulls his hand from between your legs. “Look at the mess you’ve made trying to mark me up like a bitch in heat.” There’s no sense of embarrassment welling at his degrading words. What sense is there in hiding how well your husband pleasures you? And Lord Sukuna seems proud as his tongue licks up the mess you’ve made on his hand before pressing a kiss to your parted lips. You taste yourself on his tongue. Your blood and your pleasure. 

“You’re going to take me so well, aren’t you?” It’s hardly a question. Simply an ordered phrased as if you could deny yourself the feeling of being split open on Lord Sukuna’s cocks. He starts with one, always. Dragging the leaking head through the mess he’s made of your cunt, tapping against your clit until he finally presses inside. His body is a marvel and you’re blessed to be so acquainted with it as the length not pressing inside you grinds against your clit as he makes you take him as deep as your body will allow. Lord Sukuna has been known to be rash and unpredictable, a being of pure chaos when the mood strikes him, but when he’s with you like this everything he does is deliberate. 

He’s rough but not destructively so. Yes, you’re bleeding as he bounces you in his lap, drawing a litany of breathless sounds from your lips, but he’s always intentional when drawing blood. You’ve been trained well in these years of marriage to take him. To weather any storm Lord Sukuna throws at you. His hands are bruising on your hips as he drags you up and down his length, hands that could shatter your bones with the slightest bit of effort and yet he only uses enough strength to hold you close. You’re not deluded enough to think that Lord Sukuna loves you, certainly not in the way a lover should, but he cares enough to treat you with a level of gentility. 

“Thank you,” you babble it like a prayer, over and over. Worshiping at your husband’s altar for even the briefest thought given to your safety, your pleasure. It can never be said that Lord Sukuna is a neglecting lover, at least not with you. He’s everywhere all at once. Hands on your hips and at your breasts, pinching at the aching peaks of your nipples. His face is buried against your throat, teeth surely raising welts as his tongue laps at the taste of blood and sweat dampening your skin. You cling to him in turn, nails digging into the thick muscles of his arms with no hope of ever drawing blood. Still, he grunts out a laugh as you drag your dull nails across his skin, leaving nothing but the whisper of claw marks behind. An arm slips out from under your grasp, unbalancing you, but Lord Sukuna is quick to steady your boneless body as he reaches between you to take hold of his second cock. It’s thick and straining, leaking against your skin as he presses it in beside the first. The stretch is harsh, a stinging pinch between your legs soothed only in part by his thumb drawing shapes against your clit. He hushes you when your whining gets too loud, hands clamping tight to your hips to keep you from squirming away from taking all of him.

“Be a good wife and accept your reward.” Lord Sukuna hisses as he presses deep inside you. The weight of him settles like molten heat inside you, his hand pressing over the shape of himself through your stomach. “Hush, you can take it.” He hisses, biting at your cheek as tears well in your eyes once more. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s a strange feeling to be so full all at once. 

“My pretty wife.” He’s only this sweet when he has you close to breaking, teetering on the edge of insanity from the way he’s taking his pleasure from your body. “Look at me, woman. Keep your eyes on your king.” It’s hard to look anywhere else. He isn’t sweating, this is hardly more than a leisurely stroll for him, but the humidity has left his skin beaded with moisture. It makes him shimmer in the torchlight like the divine being that he is, wasting his time on a creature as lowly as you. It’s your blessing that he’s so enraptured with you at the moment. Your eyes slip shut, tears streaming down your cheeks as every corner of your body feels lit aflame, the heat only made worse as Lord Sukuna’s hand finds your jaw. 

“I said, eyes. On. Me.” He growls. With a bit of resistance, your eyes flutter open, white light swimming at the edge of your vision as Lord Sukuna drags you to the precipice of insanity. He’s close. Far less careful and coherent as he drags you up and down his lengths with startling strength. He’s pressing against every sweet spot inside you, igniting a thousand flames at once that threaten to swallow you whole. There’s a pitchy mantra of “wait, wait, wait” playing on your tongue but it only seems to further entice your husband. 

“You gonna sing for me, woman? Go on, let me hear something pretty when you come for your king.” He’s taunting you, laughing at how shrill your voice sounds. It nearly does sound like you’re singing as you wail his name, back bowing as he rips another orgasm from your spent body. It’s as quick as a lightning strike and nearly as blinding, eyes clouding white for a moment as you fight to keep your eyelids from fluttering. From taking your eyes off Lord Sukuna for even a moment. You feel yourself clawing at him, clinging and grasping to keep yourself grounded as pleasure shatters through your body. Vaguely you can hear Lord Sukuna laughing, something tinged dark with amusement as he works you through your orgasm. He has no patience to wait for you to regain your breath, to see the light of coherence return to your eyes. Instead, his hands grip tighter to your waist, nails biting into your skin as he works you faster over his cocks. His voice dips low, a rasping gravel as he grunts, squeezing every bit of his own pleasure from your body. It’s barely a change, just the slightest shift, but you’ve done this so many times that you can almost sense when he gets close. 

Lord Sukuna gathers your loosening muscles back into some semblance of an embrace, holding you tight to his chest as he pushes your hips low enough for your bodies to meet in earnest. The feeling is a wet slide of skin against skin, the mess of your joined pleasure slicking up your bodies. It nearly feels like choking as he holds you still, the shape of him pressing every so slightly against the softness of your stomach. He’s more gentle now, but only by a hair’s breadth, as he thumbs over the shape of his body making a home for itself inside yours. There’s always a hint of softness at the edges of moments like this. A bit of the darkness bleeds from Lord Sukuna’s eyes as he guides your hips to grind against him, thumbing where he sees himself beneath your skin. Lord Sukuna has always been smart, his intelligence far exceeding that of your woefully undereducated mind. 

There’s never been a time where you were certain of his thoughts, but in moments like these you think there’s a hint of curiosity sparkling in his eyes. Something desirous of the unknown and intangible. He moves in shallow thrusts, thumb dancing lazily over your puffy clit for only a moment more before he’s spilling inside you with a satisfied groan. But, still, he keeps you there. As if forcing your body to take to everything he’s given you. If it were up to you, your womb would quicken to give him a child; proof of your devotion. But even the fantasy sounds impossible. Lord Sukuna has shed his humanity and with it, you assume, his ability to continue his legacy by way of heirs. Though he hardly needs them. 

Lord Sukuna is a shining beacon of the height of jujutsu, proof of what greatness can be achieved when you’re willing to go beyond the standards set out by society. He’s immortal, indomitable. Children would only be another jewel in his crown, more pawns to serve his greater will. And it’s unlikely such children of greatness will ever come to pass. In all your years of marriage, there’s never been a single moment where you thought for even a moment that Lord Sukuna’s seed took. And it likely never will. It’s wasted as he lifts you off of his softening length, everything he gave you dripping out into the spring water. The light flickers and for a moment it almost looks like there’s a spark of disappointment in his eye, then the torches shift again and the shadows are gone.

“You did well, woman.” He hums, running his hands over the length of your body. The heat of his palms and the babbling water works to soothe the aches and pains of being so thoroughly used by your behemoth of a husband. “Who do you love, wife?” He asks after the breath finally returns to your lungs. Of course it’s him. There is no one else. No man could compare, like a pebble being compared to a shining jewel. 

“Good girl.” He says when you’ve finished your babbling. Like a true king, Lord Sukuna loves to hear his own praises and you’re more than happy to sing them. Sometimes it’s startling how perfectly the two of you exist together. He’s the sun and you’re a flower turning your face to gaze upon him always. Which of his other wives could ever share in a fraction of your devotion? No one will ever love Lord Sukuna as you do, save for maybe Uraume. Perhaps they don’t love him, but there is a fine line between love and admiration. The loyal servant comes bustling into the bathhouse after Lord Sukuna has had his fill of soft caresses and breathless praises. 

The fact that both of you are bare makes no difference to Uraume. They lift you from Lord Sukuna’s arms with startling strength, hands frigid against your skin as they guide you to sit and go about drying your body and combing your hair. It’s always strange to be tended to by someone other than your personal maid, more so when it’s by the hands of Lord Sukuna’s most trusted servant, but it seems Uraume sees you as an extension of Lord Sukuna as much as you do. They dry and dress you, sending you back to your room so that they may speak privately with your husband. Some time later when the bells of the estate are tolling for the Hour of the Dog, the strumming of your koto is interrupted further by screaming. Something bloodcurdling terrified as it rings through the house, echoing into the snow speckled night. Vaguely you think of how the screaming sounds like First Mistress Jurina. 

#sukuna ★ #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk smut #★ mine!

[wyvernest]

open arms | fantasy AU

pairing: witcher*!miguel x f!reader

> In Sapkowski's works, "witchers*" are beast hunters who are given supernatural abilities at a young age to battle wild beasts and monsters.

warnings: smut, fluff, dryhumping, unprotected piv, cowgirl & a bit of missionary, mentions of possible infidelity, slight angst at the end? very slight

summary: miguel returns to the reader after months of wandering the Continent, and she welcomes him with open arms

Every time you hear a horse trotting on the stone-streets of the village, your heart flutters wildly in your chest. Maybe it's him.

Only most of the time, it isn't. It's always just a soldier or a tradesman. 

No. His arrival is incomparable . When it's him, the whole village echoes with the deep, steady sounds of his horse's galloping. He never slows down, until he reaches the very wooden gates of the settlement. Comes by with a storm, a strong gust that then leaves as swiftly as it arrived.

And sometimes, you almost wish another monster would start terrorizing the village. Nothing too perilous, of course, but grave enough so that the guards wouldn't try to take care of it. So that they'd wait for a Witcher.

But alas, it stays a dream. He has for sure found some other fairer maiden in the south. Yet you're still here, unwed and long-time devoted to such a cold hearted man.

But how can a cold heart hold you so? How can it make you feel so warm, so adored? Must be some kind of sorcery.

And despite your unfruitful attempts to forget the hunter, on one gloomy evening, you couldn't help but jolt to your window at yet another horse clanking its hoofs on the pavement. 

Your heart races. A cloaked man. You can't see his face, but his stature is very telling. It can't be him. He gets off his horse. He enters the tavern across the road.

You release a breath you hadn't realized you were holding in your chest, mentally slapping yourself for running to see who it is so hastily. You'd almost want to smack him for all the cold months he's made you endure without him, without a single word from him.

But you can't. Whatever’s holding your hand back is stronger than any pale vengeance, it's what made you rush to your window, what now made you run to your bedchamber to pick and choose your prettiest outfit.

It's nearing midnight when you hear a confident knock on your door. Formalities. He knows he could kick the whole frame down in all courtesy and you'd still jump in his arms. 

You try to act surprised.

“Miguel!” You tear yourself away from your working table, just for a second before stopping in your tracks. 

What if he doesn't want you anymore? And he's come to grace you with the very news of it?

He rushes to you instead; one, two strides and he's across the room with his arms around you. Not with a teary, hearty expression, but with the desperate, deep sigh of a man who had finally filled his lungs with fresh air after being buried in ice cold waters for years.

“I've missed you, I-” 

You wanted to go on about how you were first afraid he'd found someone else, then how that fear turned into an image of him falling in battle, but he stopped you.

With his face in his big, warm hands, his lips meet yours in an almost barbaric kiss. If you hadn't had him in other ways before, you'd swear he was a man starved. But you're aware of how patient he can be. Sometimes.

He tries not to break it, but it's slightly difficult with his left hand now down your back and his right clutching your prettiest skirts to the back of your thighs as he lifts you up with nearly frightening ease. 

His steps almost shake wooden floorboards of the house as he enters the bedroom, with you glued to his chest.

Your hands are running through his hair, a feeling you've missed so ardently. Your palms, with nothing but the memory of his soft, raven strands in them, used to feel as if whipped with burning lashes, where loving his touch had been.

“I need to have you. Let me have you,” He speaks in your face, his voice dripping with a roughness you've only ever heard from him after a hard won fight, tired yet still potent. 

In response, you start twisting your delicate fingers into his collar, as if you could simply drag the garments down from him. Not before a scorching heat blazes in his eyes at your acceptance, he places you on the soft mattress and starts ridding himself of his armor. Pretty light one, you mentally note. Bastard, he knew he'd be coming to see me. Came half ready.

As his tanned body starts coming to the warm light of candles, you study his form. He had changed. His shoulders are bigger, his arms are thicker. As a whole, he looks stronger. Your panties soak at the sight.

He sits on the bed and places you on his lap, pleased with himself, and you suddenly feel as meek and shy as you were the first time he had you.

You feel him heat up beneath you as your lips explore each other in the most tender yet passionate dance you never thought you would need the same way you need air.

The softest of moans echoes in your throat, encouraging him to push your thighs apart over his groin. Hot palms run over your middle to the swell of your ass and back to your shoulders.

The hardening bulge in his pants brushes onto your bare, glistening pussy, and he feels your slickness through the thin material.

You try to take the reins with kisses on his cheeks and neck while slowly grinding on his crotch. He can't help but send a rough smack on your ass, smirking at your surprised yelp.

“I like having you all over me like this.” he admits as you drop your weight on him, no longer supported by your elbows, relying on gravity itself to mould you together the best it can, two desperate lovers mangled into each other’s limbs like roses sprouting upon the same rod.

A faint smile blooms its way onto his lips, his heavy-lidded, crimson eyes inescapably drunk on you. He’s looking at you like you’re his very heart and soul, the last slither of hope for life in a place filled with nothing but death. A reminder for him that his hands were not only meant to break necks and bathe in blood, but to love and hold you, so dearly, so perfectly.

Heart swelling with joy and sincere infatuation, you seal your lips with his, urged by an uncontrollable impulse to taste him as if he’s the oxygen you need to breathe. His lips feel soft and tender as they move against yours, hands naturally snaking to cup his face and hold him in the dearest way you can.

The moment you break away you feel utterly intoxicated. His now rock-hard dick nudges at your pulsing cunt, begging for your attention.

Lifting yourself from him and untangling his sturdy arms from around your waist, you lower your dripping cunt onto his still clothed erection, anchored with a knee on each side of his ample thighs. He watches closely, hypnotised by the way you begin rubbing yourself onto him, the outline of his cock grazing back and forth between your folds without entering you.

He fails to restrain a grunt which you can only mirror with a whine of your own as his dick twitches against your clit, your legs nearly abandoning you at the memory of the orgasms he fucked out of you on the other nights, when he came banging on your door less tired.

Something downright filthy about the picture stirs you further, driving you to submit yourself to his pleasure completely.

He grabs at your hips, guiding their sway, making little to no effort to claim you, having you simply dry hump him for sport while he’s comfortably laying back on the soft cushion.

That only until he finally deems your performance enough to satisfy him, and twists you around, fucking you into his mattress until you're soaked in his come, you imagine.

You grind against him at an idle pace, rising and falling onto his raging boner, beads of precome already staining his pants where his tip presses against its confinement. Placing your hands on his navel, you feel his feverish skin and the trail of coarse hair that disappears below the waistband.

The featherlight touch of your fingers slipping underneath his shirt makes him dizzy and unbearably needy. You start rocking your hips back and forth over the length of his hard cock, using his firm abdomen for support.

His eyes follow your movements, the languid strokes of your hips and the soft bounce of your tits underneath your night dress.

Warm, large hands creep up your sides, skating beyond the dip of your middle and up beneath the cotton of your one and only piece of clothing.

His palms tense just below your heaving breasts, their touch unbelievably addictive. You automatically arch your back to lean closer to him, wordlessly imploring him to put an end to his teasing.

“Take it off, 'wanna see your tits.” his eyes motioning for you to undress and throw the garments anywhere across the room. You feel your face heat up and cunt clench at his bold request.

Without any protest you comply, managing not to halt your grinding while your arms cross over head, disposing of the top while missing the way his pupils expand at the sight.

His hands latch onto your breasts accompanied by a hitched breath of yours, fondling and squeezing them together, veins bulging in his massive arms.

Right when you try applying a tad more pressure onto his leaking cock he grunts, signaling you to carry on just like that. You abuse the newfound weakness, glancing down only to be met with the broad head inching out of his pants with every drive of your hips. It twitches into the snug warmth of your damp folds, a telltale warning that he's close.

You speed up, confident that you may finally witness his climax without the drowning haze of your own. The dream swiftly dissolves into euphoria as he grabs your waist, swiftly switching positions and getting on top of you.

He enters you harshly, and his thrusts are furious. He doesn't need much more to reach his end, as he guides you into raw, carnal bliss, the girth of his dick spasming along your damp pussy adding to the tightening knot in your womb.

The frail bed creaks and trembles under his force, as his head comes down to nestle in the crook of your neck, his whole body nearly veiling you completely.

He comes with a thunderous groan, kissing your neck with tender, wet lips before slipping out and letting himself fall back lazily on the bed.

You're quick to nestle yourself beside him, head on his heaving chest.

“I've missed you.” he rasps, ever so slightly gasping for air.

“Where have you been?” you speak softly, yet you accentuate the question by running your hand over his toned chest, then up by his jaw, hoping it'll break him.

“Everywhere I was needed.” he takes in a deep breath, “Everywhere but here.”

You chuckle, tightening your embrace, as much as you can. Even though you're well aware the whole town will probably throw you dirty looks for months after seeing him yet again enter your house at the hour of the wolf, you didn't care.

You even found it in yourself to feel lucky with his visits. With him. You hadn't given yourself to any other man in town, other than him. But he wasn't from here. And that made him burst with pride.

“You sure you haven't been messing around while I was gone? Am I gonna have to fight a godless bastard for your hand?”

“Have you been messing around?” you ask, with pleading eyes, glistening in the low light. He looks down at you.

“I might have gotten a bit lonely at times.” He jokes, and although something stings you harshly at the thought, you decide to trust him. Miguel was many things, but a dishonorable man wasn't one of them.

You playfully push him away, just an excuse to feel the meaty muscles of his arm and stomach in the process. As if you needed an excuse.

"I'd fight any witless whoreson if it meant having you for myself properly."

You fall into slumber soundly, lulled by the soft yet raspy sound of his voice, whispering sweet nothings to you about all the things he would do, if only he wasn't bound by his lifelong duty.

I WANNA WRITE MORE WITH THIS CROSSOVER ‼️‼️

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #spiderman 2009 #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse #spider verse

[pucksandpower]

Lewis Hamilton x Queen of Latin Music!Reader - Social Media AU

lewishamilton posted a story

yourusername

Liked by lewishamilton, antonelaroccuzzo, and 2,746,583 others

yourusername temporada de fresas 🍓

(Translated from Spanish: strawberry season 🍓)

View all 18,096 comments

lewishamilton delicious

y/nupdates excuse me, sir???

lh44updates did you see what lewis posted on his story a few minutes before this?

y/nupdates oh my god 😵‍💫 if this is a coincidence, i’ll eat my hat

f1wagupdates no way it’s a coincidence because this is textbook soft launching

lh44updates imagine if they made the jam together?

f1wagupdates this might mean that they’re living together or at least staying over

latingossip “lewis” this, “hamilton” that … why is no one talking about the fact that this is directly shading her ex?

yourfanclub i love that y/n is sneakily calling ruiz out by using strawberry jam considering it’s sort of the reason why she broke up with him in the first place

y/nupdates it’s so poetic

yourfanclub especially taken into context with lewis’ story 🤭

lewishamilton

Liked by yourusername, neymarjr, and 2,941,685 others

lewishamilton Feeling beyond blessed on my birthday 🙏🏽 Thank you for filling my heart with love, joy, and the most incredible music. Here’s to another year of embracing the magic of life ❤️🎵

View all 17,328 comments

yourusername happy birthday, my love! you are a blessing in my life each and every day. i will always be eternally grateful for the endless love and happiness you bring into my heart

georgerussell63 THERE’S A SHE-WOLF IN THE CLOSET

charles_leclerc are you okay, mate?

georgerussell63 OPEN UP AND SET IT FREE (AH-OOH)

alex_albon he’s still a little starstruck

georgerussell63 THERE’S A SHE-WOLF IN THE CLOSET

landonorris i think the party broke him

georgerussell63 LET IT OUT SO IT CAN BREATHE

f1wagupdates they are finally official 👀

latingossip not like they’ve really tried to hide that they’re together but it’s definitely still nice to get confirmation

y/nupdates i hope everyone who got to see her perform appreciates how lucky they are 😭

yourfanclub i would have given my firstborn to be invited 🫣

yourusername

Liked by lewishamilton, badgalriri, and 9,852,416 others

yourusername “slipstream” with XNDA is out now! hope you guys love it ❤️

“slipstream” con XNDA disponible ya! espero les guste ❤️

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lewishamilton my inspiration and motivation 😘

yourusername the reason my heart sings 🥰

f1wagupdates they’re actually the cutest

y/nupdates who is XNDA? his voice is so familiar but i’ve never heard of him before

hamilfan44 XNDA is just the stage name that lewis uses for his music

y/nupdates for real? he’s so talented!

lh44updates the fact that lewis used to be insecure about his rapping and now he’s proudly featured on a song with his girlfriend 🥹

Comments

⤷ Wait … did I just hear that correctly? Did Lewis call Y/N his wife?

⤷ He said it so naturally that I didn’t even realize until you pointed it out 😳

⤷ It’s definitely a surprise but I absolutely love them together! They are so much happier with each other

⤷ This is a bombshell considering they never even officially announced they were engaged in the first place

⤷ Who can blame them for wanting to keep it private after so much of their lives has been aired to the public? This just goes to show that they are well and truly in love

⤷ I hope this means we continue to get more music collabs from them

yourusername and lewishamilton

Liked by mercedesamgf1, billboard, and 12,586,734

yourusername and lewishamilton racing against the world, our love’s the finish line 💍

View all 183,625 comments

mercedesamgf1 congratulations to our favorite paddock couple! wishing you a lifetime of happiness and success together

georgerussell63 i’m not even mad because they’re my favorite paddock couple too

carmenmmundt honestly same

billboard congrats! we can’t wait to see the hamilton-y/l/n family expand (and by that we mean new music of course 😉)

f1wagupdates what do you know that we don’t?

lh44updates i’m not sure what i want more: for them to release a new song collab or for them to have the most adorable baby ever

y/nupdates why not both?

Liked by yourusername and lewishamilton

y/nupdates umm are you guys seeing this???

donatella_versace so stunning, my darlings! thank you for giving me the honor of designing your wedding dress (and roscoe’s tux) 🩷

formulanone when a dog gets to wear something that costs more than your rent 🫠

paddockstyle roscoe is a fashion icon just like his father

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #social media au #lewis hamilton #instagram au #instagram imagine #lh44 #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton blurb #mercedes amg f1 #f1 instagram au #instagram edit #f1 blurb #fake instagram #f1 fandom #f1 fluff #formula 1 #insta edit #f1blr

[alvojake]

The Summoning | K.SN

「paring」 : demon!sunoo x fem!virgin!reader 「word count」 : 10k

「synopsis」 : sometimes you can't even trust your friends or you'll be tied down to an altar as a sacrifice for a demon, but what if this demon offered a deal in exchange for your life?

「genre」 : suggestive/smut(not fully), dark romance, supernatural au, dark, horror/thriller, angst, slight crack, maybe a tinge of fluff??

「warnings」 : blood, demon ritual, the reader is being used as a sacrifice, cursing, cult activities, murder, sunoo is MEAN, talk of corruption, mind reading, threats, manipulation, mentions of partying and drinking, choking, petnames (princess, slut, whore, sir...), degradation, teasing, marking, biting, possessive behavior, fingering, lmk if I missed anything!!

𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘 | 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙

When you walked out of your apartment hours earlier to hang out with your ‘friends’ you hadn’t expected to be drugged and tied down to an altar. Yet here you were, hands and legs bound tightly by ropes as they dumped some kind of liquid all over your body. Your eyes were screwed shut trying to keep any of it from getting in them. 

Just when you thought they were done you felt more cascading down your face causing your breath to hitch in your throat, heart pounding in your chest. Your eyes opened slowly when you felt the last of it drop onto your skin only for panic to override your senses when you realized what it was they just poured all over you.

Blood…

Your stomach turned, feeling like you were about to be sick, tears stinging in the corner of your eyes. Looking up you met the eyes of two of your so-called friends, no longer in their casual attire but now dressed in a black robe, the hood pulled over their heads.

“Why are you guys doing this? I didn’t do anything wrong!” You cried out, tears finally spilling down your cheeks, “please we can talk about this!” Pleas spewed from your lips, but the words fell on deaf ears.

“Gag her.” Someone instructed one of the younger males that stood closest to you. You continued to let out small cries of ‘please’ hoping that they would let you go. The sharp sting that bloomed on your cheek as your head jerked to the side stopped your incessant pleas before a head roughly grabbed your hair, yanking your head back.

“Shut the fuck up.” He growled before grabbing the cloth that someone was handing him, harshly tying it around your mouth, successfully muffling your cries. 

As you tired to look around the dimly lit room you cursed yourself for not taking your mother’s words to heart. Maybe you really did trust too easily, but that's how you’ve always been, you always wanted to give people the benefit of the doubt. Letting them prove themselves instead of your listening to others words, which in some cases you really should have listened. No matter how many times you have had your trust broken you just never seemed to learn, so maybe, just maybe if you had finally listened to your mom, then maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation right now. No you’d be back home in your cozy little apartment probably watching some lousy show curled up on the couch with your roommate.

Instead you laid here, tied to an altar for some unknown reason, covered head to toe in blood and listening to some kind of mantra you didn’t understand. Sobs started to rack your body, tears rushing down your cheek washing away some of the blood. Thrashing against your restraints you cursed yourself for being so stupid, but you also cursed the people you called your friends for tricking you. Rage started to trickle into your mind as your movements became more violent, curses falling from your lips only to be muffled by the gag. 

Just then a strong gust of wind swept the room, blowing all of the candles out and all of your movements stopped. Fear embarrassing your mind once more as you frantically looked around trying to figure out what was happening. 

The chanting that once filled the room was gone, leaving an eerie silence. You felt uneasy, unsure of the weird feeling you could feel creep up your spine. 

What in the world was going on? You were in a closed off room. There was no way in hell that a gust of wind that strong could get in. Yet here you are, in complete darkness, your eyes having a hard time adjusting.

“Did it work?” You heard one of the girls ask off to your right causing your head to whip in her direction ready to ask what was going on despite the gag in your mouth. However, the sudden pressure of something, or someone, breaks you out of your thoughts, your body going rigid. Your eyes slowly moved back to see what it was.

Glowing red eyes welcomed your gaze and a scream erupted from your lungs, tugging on your restraints once more. When the candles around you relit you were finally able to see just who it was that was on top of your body. Through your teary vision you could make out a male, his hair a dark red, his skin was pale and were those horns? 

Sunoo looked down at you, amusement gleaming in his dark orbs relishing in the look of pure terror that painted your pretty face. His head tilted to the side, a small smirk tugging on his lips at the sight of the tears that still flowed from your eyes. Your eyes never left his as he studied your features, the way your eyes were bloodshot due to crying, how even under the gag he could see your bottom lip trembling.

Movement in the corner of his eye reminded him that there were still others in the room. His lip twitched as he saw them all bow around the altar. 

“Oh, great one-” “Get out.” Sunoo’s voice was cold as he kept his gaze on you, watching as your eyes grew wide realizing that he was trying to get you alone. A few of those around the room looked up, confused by Sunoo’s words.

One of the guys stood to his feet, meeting Sunoo’s dark gaze that had fallen on him, “but we-'' In a blink of an eye the weight on top of you was gone and Sunoo stood in front of the male, hand plunged deep in his chest. You watched in horror as he coughed, blood spilling from his lips, eyes looking at the redhead in shock.

With a swift movement Sunoo retracted his hand, pulling the heart out of the male’s chest. Eyes glowing red once more as he looked over his shoulder. “I hate repeating myself.” He hissed as the body in front of him dropped dead. Everyone around you scrambled to their feet with screams, rushing to get out of the room. You watched in horror calling for one of them to help you heart pound against your ribcage making you feel lightheaded. Thanks to the cloth over your mouth all of your words came out muffled as you continued to sob.

Sunoo looked down at the still beating heart in his hand, the organ slowly dying in his palm as it realized that it was no longer able to do its job. With a click of his tongue he tossed it off to the side before turning back to you, his gaze falling on you once more.

The severity of your situation finally weighed down on you as he walked towards you, why were you fighting anyways? It’s not like you were magically going to get out of your restraints and there was no knight in shining armor to save you, so why are you still fighting? 

Sunoo watched in curiosity as you slowly stopped fighting against your restraint, silent sobs fell from your lips, eyes screwed shut. “Aww did you really just accept your fate? Where’s the fun in that?” He pouted as he traced a finger along the side of your face before hooking it around the cloth in your mouth, pulling it down. Your eyes snapped open meeting his ruby red orbs, why would he just suddenly-

“Because you’re an interesting creature.” He answered your question as if he just read your thoughts, making your eyes go wide.

“Did you-” “Just read your mind? Yes.” Sunoo cut you off as he tilted his head once more, taking in your features now that there weren’t any interruptions in the room. He watched as your chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath you took, hearing your heart beating crazily under your ribs.

Now you see normally Sunoo wasn’t one to waste any time with his sacrifices, becoming too annoyed with their incessant whining too quickly. He would just kill them swiftly, though he always stopped to watch the way the life drained from their eyes as he ripped their hearts out much like he did earlier. He would then take their souls back with him to the underworld and call it a day, but there was something about you. Something that drew him in, making him want to know more, wanting to figure out what this pull was.

“Are you going to kill me?” Your voice came out quiet and hoarse from all of the screaming and crying. It still brought Sunoo out of his thoughts, his eyes flickering up to meet yours. You watch him with glossy eyes, his gaze making you feel very overwhelmed especially since he wasn’t saying a word. Without so much as a sound he raised his hand, snapping his finger releasing your limbs from their restraints. Tilting your head back you realized that the ropes had disappeared, your gaze then fell back on his unsure for the first time in your life if you could trust him or not.

Your heart nearly stopped in your chest when his hand grabbed your face roughly, leaning in dangerously close. Close enough that you could feel his warm breath fanning your face, his eyes flashing red causing your breath to hitch in your throat. 

Sunoo smirked sadistically as he watched your eyes go wide, meeting his own, “I won’t kill you. On one condition.” He looked into your eyes, seeing the way that you silently pleaded with him. A rush of excitement rushed up his spine knowing that he was finally going to have a little bit of fun. To be frank he was growing tired of the same old tedious loop that he was constantly stuck in, he wanted something different. Something fun. Something new. 

The little part of his job was that he was able to know just about anything he wanted about his sacrifices just by looking at them. They were all virgins, the purest form of souls and boy did his kind love the taste of them, but Sunoo? It was far too bland for him, no he wanted something more sinful. Then just like that the wheels started turning in his mind, he’d probably get his ass chewed out by the higher ups, but he couldn’t give two shits, not when he was finally gonna get something he longed for.

He made it his mission to take your sweet little innocent soul and tarnish it. Corrupted you until you were anything but pure, then he’d make his final move. He’d kill you, taking your soul back with him as a trophy of his achievements. 

Sunoo knew how naive and clueless you were so he really didn’t have any worries about you agreeing. He was going to use one of your weakest points to her greatest advantage. So his grip tightened on your jaw causing a small whimper to leave your lips.

“I’ll let you live if, and only if, you agree to follow my every command.” He mused, taking in the way your eyebrows scrunched together. 

“That’s it?” You asked, confused, but Sunoo knew as soon as those words left your sweet, plump lips that he’d have you right in the palm of his hand.

“That’s it.” He confirmed, nodding his head before letting go of your face allowing you to sit up. The redhead watched as you tried to piece together his words in your head. Was that all he really wanted? Was for you to listen to him? How could that possibly be? But the moment that you met his eyes he knew what conclusion you had come to.

“Okay… I’ll do it.” He couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride fill his chest as those words fell from your mouth as you tried to wipe the tears from your face, only to smear blood in the process.

A devilish smile spread across his face which you mistook for a simple smile and with a snap of his fingers a paper scroll appeared out of thin air, surprising you. Where had it come from? Ignoring your confused expression he laid the paper in front of you, watching as the contract wrote itself. However, you were far too busy trying to figure out how he made it appear to see the ink filling the page.

“Alright then princess, all you need to do is sign.” He instructed you, snapping you out of your daze and you quickly skimmed over the paper seeing that it pretty much said what Sunoo had already told you. By the time you got to the bottom of the page you realized that you didn’t have a pen to sign with.

Meekly you looked over at Sunoo and he just waved the quill pen in his hand before holding his other hand out. Confused, you looked at his hand before meeting his gaze once more. “Give me your hand.” His voice made you shiver before slowly and carefully placing your hand in his. In quick movements he pricked the tip of your finger with the pen earning a yelp from you as you ripped your hand away from him, looking at him with wide eyes.

“What was that for?” You questioned as you cradled your hand to your chest, eyes watching as he rolled his. 

“You’ll need to sign it with your blood.” He told you like it was something you should have already known. With a small pout you took the pen from his hand and quickly signed your name on the bottom line of the page. A smirk tugged on Sunoo’s lips as he watched how quickly you pretty much signed your freedom away, all because you thought ‘what is the worst he could do?’ The answer to that was that he could very easily make your like a living dream or your worst fucking nightmare.

Once you were finished you quickly handed the scroll back to the red-haired male, looking at him expectantly. He took a step away from you, giving you a smile, “Then I’ll see you later princess.” Just then another gust of wind swept the room causing you to close your eyes.

When you opened your eyes once more you found yourself back in your bedroom, sitting in bed as if nothing had just happened. Was it all really just a dream? Your eyebrows scrunched together, bringing your hand up to caress your forehead, but stopped when you saw the red and purple skin on your wrist.

You knew it wasn’t a dream, that you really just made a deal with the devil himself. Slowly removing the blanket from your body you let your legs dangle over the edge, still trying to wrap your head around what had just happened. 

Walking into the bathroom you made your way over to the sink not even bothering to turn the lights on. Turning the tap on you hoped that maybe washing your face with some cold water would make you feel better, but even as you rubbed the white soap studs on your face questions still infiltrated your brain. When you go done you quickly dry your face before walking out of the bathroom, towards your bedroom door.Peeking your head out you took note of just how quiet the house was. Jungwon must be asleep by now so you decided against better judgment that you wouldn’t wake him up. Shutting the door once more you walked over to your bed, laying face down first hoping that sleep would help clear your mind, except… it didn’t. If anything you were left staring at your ceiling all night lost in your thoughts.

Jungwon stood in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in one hand, his phone in the other. The sound of dragging feet caused him to look up only to find you walking in. A yawn escaped your lips as you rubbed your eyes, your hair was an absolute mess. Pieces were sticking up while others stuck to your forehead, it quite frankly looked like you just walked out of a tornado. He stifled a laugh with his coffee causing you to look up at him with a pointed look.

“Shut up, I didn’t get much sleep last night.” A groan slipped from your lips as you massaged the crease in your forehead. He smirked while wiggling his eyebrows, causing you to raise yours, “you’re weird.”

“I’m weird? You’re the one that was out for god who knows how long.” Jungwon rolled his eyes and you stopped dead in your tracks, small clips of last night flashing in your mind. “Where were you anyways? You never showed up to that party.”

“I…” You trailed on not really sure what to tell him, not without sounding like a complete maniac. “I don’t remember actually.”

Jungwon looked at you with a skeptical gaze, spilling on his now lukewarm coffee, his nose scrunching. He knew you weren’t one to get drunk at a party, you were normally the driver for them. So for you to get so drunk that you completely forget everything that happened, was completely out of character seeing as you hated the feeling. 

“Everything okay?” He asked, causing you to hum as you walked to the cabinet with the cups in them. 

Everything from last night replayed in your head, from them tricking you into some abandoned church, to signing some contract with that guy. Was he even a guy? Then you remembered how they all probably thought you were dead. What was going to happen when you had to go back to class on Monday? And what about the deal you made? Was he really going to make you follow his every command?

Then you started to remember everything he did. He couldn’t be a human, there was no way in hell that he was, not with what he did. How could someone so easily stick their hand in another person's chest? Or what about you being back in your room, like nothing had happened?

“Did you get drunk enough to get a tattoo?” Jungwon snickered, pulling you from your thoughts. 

You looked over at him with wide eyes, confused. “What?” 

Jungwon just shook his head, a small smirk forming on his lips as he pointed to his chest right under his collarbone. You don’t have tattoos, they weren’t ever a thought in your mind either so with rushed movements you sat your cup down before making your way into the entrance hall where you had a mirror hanging.

Once you saw your reflection your eyes went to the spot that your roommate had pointed out. There right underneath your collarbone was a tattoo, upon closer inspection you could tell that they were words. However, you couldn’t quite make out what it was saying because it seemed to be in a different language that you definitely didn’t understand.

Running your fingers over it you felt a chill go down your spine, the skin was completely smooth not a single sign of irritation. Which meant that it had to have been there a while, but that couldn’t be the case seeing as you have never seen this before just now. Where could this have come from? Did it happen last night?

You had gotten so lost in your thoughts that you completely missed Jungwon teasing you about how you’d probably have to get it covered up. The dark-haired male mistook your confusion for panic, seeing as if your parents found out they’d have your head served on a silver platter, but your parents were the last thing on your mind at the moment. Your fingertips were still rubbing the skin when you noticed the skin getting warmer, eyebrows scrunched together.

“Hey are you still going out to eat with us before the party tonight?” Jungwon asked, remembering that Jake and Sunghoon were going to be over later, though his words fell on deaf ears. Concerned he pushed himself off of the doorframe and walked over to you, were you really that concerned about a tattoo? He walked over to you and placed his hand on your shoulder, but quickly backed away when you jumped and swung your hand at him.

You both stood in shocked silence, staring at each other with wide eyes. Never once had you reacted like that and Jungwon no longer thought that it was the tattoo, he started to wonder what really happened last night. 

You try to regulate your sporadic heart before running your shaky fingers through your hair, “I’m just going to stay home.” Then you walked around the male not giving him a chance to say a word.

Jungwon just stood there confused as he watched you disappear into your room, the door shutting softly. He had never seen you so jumpy before nor has he seen you so out of it like you just were. Though he figured that something must have happened last night, he wasn’t going to press you for information so he just decided to leave it.

He just shrugged his shoulders before pulling his phone out letting the guys know that you wouldn’t be going before walking off to his room planning on getting some homework done before the guys showed up.

You had spent the majority of the day in your room trying anything and everything to get your mind off of what had happened last night and the strange mark on your chest. You tried to read, but everything seemed to remind you of that mysterious man. Tried working on homework, but kept messing up on all of the problems so you gave up. Tried to listen to music, but it never seemed to be loud enough to drown out the thoughts.

With a groan you just flopped on your bed staring at the ceiling trying to piece everything together, but then you heard your phone vibrate on your nightstand. Your body froze, you had completely forgotten about the device. 

What if they already figured out that you weren’t dead? They wouldn’t try to kill you would they? 

A chill went down your spine at the thought, but you knew you’d have to face them sooner or later. However, much to your relief when you opened your phone you just saw that it was the boys in the group chat.

Letting out a huff you threw your phone off to the side not even bothering to check the plethora of other notifications that you had. You figured that you would just cook dinner for yourself then watch a movie or something until Jungwon got back.

So that's what you did, you got up and made your way into the kitchen searching through the fridge and pantry for something to cook. Remembering that you still have a few packs of your favorite ramen left you opened the cabinet they were normally in. Only that they weren’t there, just the empty packaging.

You then heard footsteps in the hall so you quickly peeked your head around the corner seeing Jungwon slipping his shoes on.

“Hey Won.” The sickly sweet tone in your voice sent a chill down his spine as he slowly turned to look at you with a nervous smile, “Tell Jake that he owes me ramen or he’s a dead man the next time I see him, ‘kay?”

The poor boy just quickly nodded his head before telling you bye and walking out of the door. If there was one thing that Jungwon knew better than to mess with was your ramen, now Jake on the other hand had a bad habit of eating her stash and not replacing it.

So the first words out of Jungwon’s mouth when he got into the car were, “You’re a dead man, Sim Jaeyun.”

Jake turned around in the passenger seat to look back at the younger male, confused by what he meant, until Jungwon explained that he needed to stop eating your ramen if he wasn’t going to buy more. Jake swore up and down that he was going to buy more before literally blowing your phone up with apologies and pleads to not strangle him. Which of course went unnoticed by you because you had left your phone in your bedroom.

It had to be way past midnight and you were still perched on the couch with a bowl of popcorn at your side while you watched yet another movie. Thankfully after about two movies your mind started to calm down and you were finally able to distract yourself. You put a few more pieces of popcorn in your mouth after mumbling something that had happened on the screen.

Your body went rigid when you felt fingers brush along your jaw before grabbing your face. Sunoo smirks at your reaction before leaning down enough to have his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Are you not cold?” His breath against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, you recognized his voice almost immediately.

His grip on your face loosened a bit allowing you to turn your head to meet his chocolate orbs, however, the words died on your tongue. Your eyes searched for him, for what? You weren’t entirely sure, but unlike the first time you met him you were scared. Scared wouldn’t even come close to it. No you were intrigued. Intrigued by what he was, what he does, how he speaks, how he sounds, how he smells, how he tastes. 

Your whole body shivered at the thoughts that raced through your mind and Sunoo’s smirk widened as he listened to each and every one of them. He chuckled and the sound left your brain fuzzy.

A small squeak of surprise left your lips as Sunoo’s ring-clad fingers wrapped around your throat, squeezing softly. “I bet you enjoy walking around like a little slut, don’t you?” His voice dropped a lower octave as you tried your best to not let any sounds escape your lips. “Walking around half naked and letting your roommate see, you love the attention.”

A soft sigh fell from your lips as Sunoo’s free hand brushed over your exposed collarbone, moving down to the top of your breast that was exposed. You closed your eyes trying to ignore how hot his touches were making your body.

“H-He doesn’t care, we agreed-”

Sunoo’s grip tightened on your throat causing your breath to hitch, “Agreed on what exactly? Hmm? That you can walk around like a prostitute while he eye fucks you all day long only to go and rub one out in his room the moment he could?” A strangled cry fell from your lips as he harshly grabbed your boob in his hand. Sunoo smirked as he watched the way you were rubbing your thighs together, “I bet you even let him touch you huh, just like a little slut.”

You shook your head the best you could with his hand snuggly wrapped around your neck. A gasp then left your parted lips when he cupped your heat through your shorts. You bit your lip as he pressed harder into you feeling your slick soak through the layers of fabric.

“Do you enjoy being talked down to that much princess?” He chuckled as he ghosted his lips against your jaw, watching in amusement as your hip bucked into his hand when his finger pressed down on your clit. A moan escaped your lips when he pressed down on your hips, keeping you in place as he continued to rub your clit through your shorts. “You’re such a needy fucking brat.”

“Plea-” Your words caught in your throat as his hand tightened around your neck making you feel lightheaded. 

Sunoo watched you with a smug smirk, but he wasn’t fully satisfied. No, there was something he wanted to hear from your lips. Letting up on his pace he moved to your ear, eyes never leaving your body.

“Say my name slut,” His voice was rough as he bit down on the shell of your ear. You opened your mouth to tell him that you had no clue what his name was, but then it flashed in your mind as if you’ve known it for eternity.

“S-Sunoo.” Your eye nearly rolled to the back of your head when he picked up the pace of his fingers. Your whole body felt like it was on fire and your mind fogged over as you felt your high quickly approaching. And just like that it was gone.

A whine left your lips when he moved his hand away from your core, but his other hand stayed firmly around your throat. Sunoo’s warm breath fanned the side of your face causing a chill to go down your spine as you squirmed under him. His lips kissed your jaw softly before nipping at the skin right under your ear and a sweet moan left your lips.

“This is only the beginning princess, don’t get used to it.” Then with that he released his grip and moved away from your body. You quickly turned on the couch to ask him what he meant by that only to find yourself completely alone in the living room.

Letting out a frustrated huff you turn back around on the couch fixing your clothes trying to focus on the movie. Then the front door burst open scaring the shit out of you, nearly causing you to knock the popcorn off of the couch.

Jungwon stumbled through the front door with a very, very drunk Jake on his arm. He grumbled about how he ought to just leave him outside. When he walked into the living room he saw you sitting on the couch staring at him with wide eyes.

“You okay?” He asked you softly as he moved further into the room and you just nodded before looking over at the passed out boy next to Jungwon.

“I’m fine, but he doesn’t look too good.” You stifled a laugh as you watched Jungwon practically throw Jake down on the loveseat. Jake let out a pained grunt before laying his head back and falling asleep. 

“He’ll be fine, he’s lucky I didn’t just leave him there.” Jungwon rolled his eyes before grabbing two of the smaller throw blankets that were sitting on the shelf by the entrance, throwing one on Jake before walking over to you. “He’s a dumbass and forgot his house keys and his roommate is out of town until Thursday.” 

You giggled against your hand, because it’s not like it was a first time occurrence. Jake always seemed to get overly excited about things and always forgets something.

Jungwon couldn’t help but smile at the sound that left your lips as he sat down next to you. You shifted over a little bit before laying your head on his shoulder and he covered the both of you with the blanket.

“What were you watching?” He asked, causing you to look at the tv screen seeing the credit rolling. You hummed trying to remember but with everything that had just happened you completely forgot what you had put on.

“Uh, just some romcom.” You bit your lip as you reached for the remote hoping that that was what you had been watching. Thankfully that was exactly what you had been watching causing Jungwon to laugh.

“That’s a first, you're normally binging any of the horror movies you can while I’m gone.” He teased as you laid your head back down on his shoulder.

You shrugged, “I wanted something different.”

Jungwon just hummed as he laid his hand on your bare thigh causing your breath to hitch, the skin under his hand tingling. This wasn’t anything new between you two, you were known for being close with each other but never once did you feel like this when Jungwon did something like that. 

“You okay?” Jungwon asked, worry laced in his words as he looked over at you and you just quickly nodded. Without another word you found another movie and played it trying to ignore the feeling you were getting from the way Jungwon’s thumb rubbed your inner thigh, and how you wished it was Sunoo’s.

That next morning you had hoped that you could at least sleep in for a little bit before getting around before school the next day, but you were rudely awakened.

“Y/NNNIE wake up!” Jake’s voice paired with his body landing on you knocked you completely awake. A groan fell from your lips as you pushed his face away from you still smelling a hint of alcohol on his breath.

“God dammit Jake go brush your teeth!” You whined trying to get him off of you but he weighed a lot and you didn’t have the strength to push him off. So he just stayed there snuggled up to you and you groaned, “Won please!” You called out for your roommate only to hear him chuckle from the hall before walking away.

With a huff, you just gave up trying to get the older boy off of you and just laid there. Jake just smiled before lying there comfortably. That was until you pinched his shoulder, hard. 

“OUCH! What was that for?!” Jake whined as he sat up, off of your body. You just smirked before getting out of bed, grabbing your hoodie that was hanging on the back of your desk chair.

“There’s a list of reasons, but we’ll just go with the fact that you still owe me ramen.” You stifled a laugh watching as his face contorted in horror before he quickly ran out of your room. Scoffing, you rushed up to your door, peeking your head out, “You better come back with my ramen Sim Jaeyun!” 

You walked into the kitchen seeing Jake standing on the other side of the island with a nervous smile. Any step you took to walk closer to him, he would step away from you, becoming a game of cat and mouse.

“What if I told you I wasn’t the one that ate it?” Jake’s voice shook as he quickly dodged your outstretched arm, racing to the opposite side of the counter.

“Jake, I swear to god I will climb over this island.” You hissed, glaring at him and he just chuckled. However, as soon as you started climbing on the counter he let out a screech before taking off towards the living room.

“SHE’S GONNA KILL ME!” He cried out darting to hide behind the couch as you jumped off of the countertop. Stalking into the living room you could hear Jake begging you to forgive him and that he promises to get you more.

Though the moment that the room went silent Jake felt his nerves spike, carefully getting up, he peeked over the top of the couch but didn’t see you anywhere. Until he felt a sudden pressure on his back before he fell flat on the ground with a groan. You grabbed his arm before pulling it behind him until he cried out.

“Ow y/n that hurts!” He whined as he tried to wiggle out from underneath you, but every time that he moved you would pull more on his arm causing his movements to stop.

“Maybe next time you’ll think before you eat my food.” You grumbled as you sat fully on his back, keeping him in place.

Jungwon walked into the living room only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight, “What the fuck…?”

Jake lifted his head at the sound and smiled widely when he caught sight of the younger male. “Won, please help me.” He begged the dark-haired boy who just stood there with a raised eyebrow.“You got yourself into this mess and I’m definitely not going against her.” Jungwon pointed to you as you looked at Jake with a sinister smirk. He then turned and started walking away ignoring Jake’s cries for help. “How am I the youngest one here?”

“I guess there is supposed to be a new student,” Jungwon told you and he scrolled through his Instagram feed, stopping on a few of the girl’s posts to like them causing you to scrunch your nose.

“Anyone say who it was?” You took a sip of your coffee as you both walked into the classroom. It's damn near the end of the semester so why start so late? 

“Nope just that it was some guy.” Your roommate just shrugged his shoulders before you sat down at your shared table, dropping his bag to the side. Taking a seat, you set your coffee to the side only for Jungwon to snatch it and take a drink resulting in you giving him the world-class nastiest side-eye.

“You’re lucky you’re cute Won.” You grumbled as you pulled your laptop out of your backpack along with your notebook, getting everything ready for class. However, just as you were about to open your laptop a shadow cast over you causing you and Jungwon to look over.

Your face dropped when you realized who it was that was standing there, anger bubbling in your gut. Joonwoo stood there with a nervous smile, hands clasped in front of his body.

“Hey, y/n could we possibly talk after class?” He asked in hopes that he could work out some deal that wouldn’t result in you dying seeing as that’s what everyone else wanted. Though when you rolled your eyes and told him no he felt his heart drop.

“Y/n plea-” “What about no, do you not get Joonwoo?” You cut him off harshly looking at him with a raised eyebrow before leaning on the table, “Right, that’s a foreign word to you isn’t it?”

Jungwon almost choked on the coffee as he looked at you with wide eyes, had that been why you were so freaked out the other day? What did he do to you? Thoughts spiraled in Jungwon’s brain as he glared at the other male.

“Aww c’mon y/n don’t be like that, we just wanna talk.” Another more higher-pitched voice chimed in and you glared at Haeun as she walked up to the table, sitting on the edge. 

Your glare deepened when she started to mess with your papers so you snatched them out of her hand, “and I don’t wanna talk to people like you, so bye.” Your words caused both of their eyes to widen, they really thought that you would go. 

“Listen here-” “No you listen here Haeun.” You growled, standing and getting in her face, your voice low, “Unless you want the entirety of the university to know what you did and who you mess around with I suggest you leave me the fuck alone.” 

You may have always trusted so easily, but that didn’t mean that you were gonna allow those who wronged you back in. No, once that trust is broken, there is no fixing it.

“Yeah and what proof?” Haeun rolled her eyes, putting distance between the two of you and you just sat back down in your seat. Arms crossed over your chest you just smirked at her.

“I have my ways, trust me.” Though your voice was steady internally you started to panic a little, you had no idea how you were going to get any of the said proof. That’s when a familiar shade of red hair caught your attention.

There at the front of the classroom talking to the teacher, was Sunoo. Looking over he caught your eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. His eyes then flickered over to the two that were standing next to you and a look of disgust graced his feature making you giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Haeun asked bitterly, causing you to just look at her with a smug smile, you then pointed to the front of the room. Haeun rolled her eyes again making your eyes narrow wishing they’d get stuck in the back of her head, however, the satisfaction of seeing the horrified looks on their face was more than enough.

Sunoo’s glare was enough for Haeun to jump off of the table and drag Joonwoo away with her. You stifled a laugh as you watched them scurry away before looking over at Jungwon who was glaring in their direction. Your smile slowly faded as you realized that he heard the whole thing. Mentally cursing yourself you met his eyes when he looked back over at you.

“What the hell happened that night?” There was worry in his tone, but also a tinge of anger. You bit your lip as you tried your best to avoid his gaze, “y/n.”

“Can we talk about this later Won?” You gave him a pleading look not really wanting to talk about what happened in the middle of a classroom where anyone could hear you. Jungwon sighed before nodding and facing the front of the class where Sunoo was talking to the professor.

Now that you could actually get a good look at him you noticed that he wasn’t dressed anything like he had been those nights ago. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater which baffled you because it was late spring, how was he not hot? Another thing that threw you off was how sweet he was acting with the teacher. 

Sunoo could feel your eyes on him and even with all of the insistent chatter in the room all he could hear were your thoughts. A small smirk tugged on his lips as he listened to you lose yourself in thoughts of him. When the professor excused him after showing him his seat, Sunoo smiled sweetly before locking eyes with yours momentarily. His eyes flashed red quickly, but it was more than enough to have you squirming in your seat.

For the remainder of class the only thing on your mind was Sunoo and boy was the demon enjoying it. Listening to you fight your thoughts as you watch the way his hand grips his pencil, or when he intentionally rubs his shoulder before letting his fingers trace over his neck much like he had done to you the other night.

He had to bite his lip to suppress the smirk that was fighting to spread on his lips as he listened to the lewd thoughts that started to race through your mind the second you remembered what had happened Saturday night.

As soon as the bell rang you quickly gathered your stuff, shoving it in your backpack. Sunoo watched in amusement as you ushered your roommate out of the classroom, eyes flickering to meet his before you disappeared out of the room.

“A game of cat and mouse hmm?” Sunoo twirled his pencil on the tip of his finger, the skin growing warmer, “doesn’t she know she’ll lose?” His eyes flashed red as the pencil incinerated, turning to dust that blew around the room.

During your lunch break, you had decided that cafeteria food didn’t sound all too appealing and you really didn’t want to go home for a short amount of time just to have to turn around and come right back. So you went with your plan b and just grabbed something from the vending machine, the only problem? You couldn’t figure out which of the snacks you wanted.

“You always did really like the cookies.” The sudden voice caused you to jump before your head whipped around just to find Joonwoo standing there.

Rolling your eyes you turned back around, feeding your money into the machine. You clicked a few buttons before watching as a bag of chips fell to the bottom. Bending down you opened the small compartment and grabbed your snack out before standing straight, looking right at Joonwoo.

“Why do you keep bothering me Joonwoo?” You crossed your arms over your chest glaring at him, “Did you really think that I wouldn’t notice you following me around like some love-sick puppy?”

Joonwoo stood there with a nervous smile on his lips, his hand reaching around to scratch the back of his neck, eyes averting yours. He wasn’t even really sure what to tell you, nor what he should ask you. 

“About the other night-” “What about it? Don’t say some stupid shit like ‘Oh it was a mistake we definitely didn’t mean to tie you to an altar as a sacrifice for a demon’ because we both know that it wasn't a mistake.” Your tone was bitter, causing the boy to jump as his eyes went wide, though you weren’t quite done, “You know I had completely trusted you guys, you and Haeun were my first friends here besides Jungwon yet as soon as I got a little too comfortable you used me? So no I really don’t want to hear any of your bullshit okay? I just want you to leave me the hell alone, got it?”

Joonwoo stood there, his mouth opening and closing like a fish searching for water. He wasn’t really sure what to say at that point, because he was going to apologize and try to beg for your forgiveness. However, now it looks like that wasn’t going to be an option so he just decided to go with the next plan.

“You do know that the moment the others find out you're alive they’ll kill you?” His words sent a chill down your spine, of course, you knew that. You had expected it, but to be quite frank you didn’t feel a single bit of fear, why? You weren’t entirely sure.

“You nor your filthy followers won’t be laying a finger on her.” His voice sent a litter of goosebumps all across your skin as you felt his hand snake around your waist, holding your hip firmly.

Joonwoo’s eyes went wide as he looked at the demon that now stood protectively behind you, then down to you. Despite your racing heart, you kept a poker face with Joonwoo, raising an eyebrow at him.

“B-But we summoned you, you’re supposed to grace us.” The boy in front of you stammered, pointing his finger at the redhead.

Sunoo raised an eyebrow at the male, “First put that disgusting thing down before I rip it off.” His lips curled as he looked Joonwoo up and down before continuing. “Second, maybe you stupid mortals should have thought about who you were summoning.” Then in a blink of an eye, Sunoo stood in front of Joonwoo, his hand wrapped around his throat cutting his oxygen supply off. “I don’t play by the rules,” Sunoo smirked as he watched the boy struggle to breathe.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride swell in your chest knowing that you had Sunoo right behind you, protecting you and oh boy did that excite you. Sunoo on the other hand was absolutely loving how naive you were, how easy it was to play with you, to bend you and before too long he’d have you shaped perfectly just for him.

However, you remembered that you were still in school and there were cameras everywhere and someone could possibly see what was going on.

“Sunoo, there’s cameras.” You warned him, shifting on your feet suddenly uncomfortable with the thought of being caught. The redhead, however, could care less about it and continued to choke out the poor boy who was pleading with his eyes. When you realized that he wasn’t letting go you rushed up to him, grabbing his bicep. “Sunoo let him go.” Your voice was low while you continued to try and spot the cameras.

Sunoo glanced over at you, catching the worry on your face as you looked around the area. With a roll of his eyes, he shoved Joonwoo away with a ‘tsk’.

“Get out of my sight, rat,” Sunoo growled and Joonwoo quickly scrambled to his feet and raced down the hall. He then turned towards you and that’s when you realized just how close you were to him and quickly backed away. Sunoo smirked at your reaction before his eyes flashed, sending a rush of heat through your body.

You could feel the heat pooling in your gut and cursed yourself for getting so turned on so easily. Something about him was starting to drive you insane and you needed to get away, quick. So without another thought, you started to walk away, narrowly dodging his outstretched hand.

“Where are you going princess?” He taunted you, but you could hear the annoyance in his tone.

Turning with a nervous smile you just pointed behind you with your thumb, “Gotta get to class, bye!” And with that, you quickly dashed down the hall trying to create as much distance as possible between the two of you, only breathing when you made it to your next class. Sitting down you placed a hand over your racing heart, taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it, “What the hell is wrong with me…?”

You had spent the rest of the day trying your best to avoid Sunoo in any way possible even if they meant you accidentally dragged Jungwon into the girl's bathroom. The poor boy was mortified when the girls inside started to freak out, quickly apologizing and rushing out. You couldn’t help but laugh as he dragged you down the hall to your next class.

“Won, I’m sorry.” You apologized between fits of laughter and he just gave you a nasty side-eye.

However, now that you were finally home after a long day at school then having to work a short shift at the game store. It was all very exhausting for no reason in particular. 

Stepping out of the shower you wrapped your towel around your body before walking over to the mirror, wiping the condensation off so you could see your reflection. Your eyes immediately went to the marking on your chest, fingers brushing over it softly.

You still had no idea what it said and it did bug you a little bit but you weren’t going to let yet another thing occupy your mind right now. So you quickly pushed it to the back burner and grabbed your underwear to slip it up your legs after drying your body off. Once your shirt was on you started using another towel to dry your hair off.

Humming to yourself you walked out of the bathroom, switching the lights off before walking into your room.

Sunoo laid on your bed one of your books in his hand mindlessly flipping through it until he heard the door shut. Looking up he watched as you walked further into the room, hands busy drying your hair. 

His eyes then trailed down the length of your body taking in the way that your tits sat under the thin fabric of your shirt and how your legs were on perfect display as the shirt hiked up.

Finally looking up a small scream left your lips before you smacked a hand over your mouth, your heart racing in your chest as you met Sunoo’s eyes.

“Y/n is everything okay?” Jungwon asked from the other side of the door, causing Sunoo to smirk. Part of him wanted the younger boy to walk in and find him on your bed, but the other, stronger, part of him wanted Jungwon completely out of the picture.

“Everything's fine, Won, it was just a bug.” You called out to him, moving your hands to your side in the process. Your eyes never left Sunoo’s even as he sat up on the bed, motioning for you to come.

Your heart wanted to move because you knew what he could do for you, but your brain kept you in place out of fear of what he could do to you. However, Sunoo grew annoyed rather quickly when you stayed put, your wide, doe eyes staring at him.

“Come, now.” He growled, his eyes turned that very ruby red that made you weak in the knees.

Slowly you made your way over to him, your lip trapped between your teeth as you bit on the sensitive skin. Though as soon as you were close enough Sunoo wrapped his hand around your arm pulling you onto the bed.

A gasp fell from your lips as your back hit the soft mattress. Sunoo hovered over you, his body pressed against yours. You could feel the heat rising up your neck, painting your face a deep shade of red. Sunoo leaned down, pressing his body more against yours and your breath hitched in your throat. His scent invaded your senses making your head spin, but when his lips brushed over your jaw you felt your brain malfunction.

“You remember our deal don’t you princess?” His tone held a warning and of course, you remembered the deal, it was the reason you were alive. However, it was still instilled in your brain that he wouldn’t actually mean every word. Oh how wrong you were.

His hand that was on your hip trailed up your waist before stopping right above the collar of your shirt. Hooking his finger under the fabric, pulling it down, and tracing his finger over your collarbone. Right over the marking.

“This right here is proof enough.” He pulled back and looked down at you as you stared back at him.

You swallowed thickly, “proof of what?”

He chuckled before latching his lips to your neck, biting down on the skin, “that you belong to me.”

A small moan escaped from your parted lips as his knee brushed against your core. You quickly bit your lip to muffle any other sounds as he continued to mark up your neck and the small part of your chest that was exposed.

Sunoo felt a sense of pride bloom in his chest at your little sounds, but he wanted to hear more. He wanted more, he wanted you to be loud, to scream his name, but most of all he wanted your roommate to know.

Sunoo wasn’t stupid, he knew that Jungwon liked you. Sunoo knew that the boy had longed to be with you but was always too scared to make the first move. He wanted Jungwon to know that he was too late, that you already found your place under someone, that the someone wasn’t him.

His hands found your hips pulling them down, pressing your core against his thigh. A mewl left your mouth as you grabbed his forearm. 

“Sunoo.” His name rolled off your tongue like butter. You wanted to push him away, scared that Jungwon would hear something and come to investigate, but the other part of you wanted to pull Sunoo closer and let him have his way with you.

The redhead smirked against your skin as he listened to your internal thoughts. Listening to how the lust slowly started to overtake your mind until you were completely consumed. 

You rolled your hips against his thigh trying to gain more friction as whines fell from your lip due to Sunoo’s assault on your neck. He bit down on your sweet spot causing your body to shiver and a moan relatively louder than the rest to tear from your lungs. He continued to abuse that spot until he was sure it was going to be the darkest one as you rutted your hips against him.

You whined when he moved his leg away from your body, but the sound was quickly caught in your throat when his hand moved down to press against your cunt.

“You’re so wet already, are all virgins this desperate?” He moved away from your neck to look at you, but as soon as his eyes met yours your hands flew up to cover your face. “Uh-uh, princess.” Sunoo removed his hand from your pussy before pulling your hands from your face, pinning them above your head. You stared at him with wide eyes, your bottom lip trembling as he smirked. “I want to see your pretty face while I make you go stupid with just my fingers.” 

Sunoo watched in amusement as your face turned a bright shade of red, but you just nodded your head. He chuckled before shaking his and leaning down closer to your face.

“Use your words, do you understand slut?” His gruff voice caused a small whimper to leave your lips and your body felt like it was on fire.

“Yes sir.” You weren’t sure what compelled you to say that, but by the sinister smirk on Sunoo’s face, you knew he liked it.

He let go of your hands and you left them lying by your head until his hand came in contact with your clothed core once more. A mewl fell from your lips as he pressed on your clit, your hands going to his shoulders.

Your head fell back with a moan as he slipped his fingers past your underwear, feeling your slick folds. He leaned down nipping at the newly exposed skin of your neck as he outlined your slit with his finger, collecting your slick before pressing down on your clit.

“Ah fuck!” You cried out a whole new sensation filling your body, sure you had touched yourself before but this was new, different. Your back arched off of the bed as he slipped a finger into your soaked hole. You bit down on your lip to muffle the sounds that threatened to leave and you balled Sunoo’s shirt into your fist.

“Such a dirty mouth, just like this little pussy of yours.” Sunoo smirked against your skin, picking up the pace of his fingers, “I’ve barely done anything and you’re already about to cum, what a filthy whore.”

His words burned in all of the good ways making your head feel fuzzy, however, when he added another finger you were sure you were about to combust. You were sure your lip was bleeding with how hard you were biting it to try and muffle your sweet sounds that Sunoo wanted to hear.

His lips brushed against your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine, “better stay quiet if you don’t want him to know what a little slut you are.” Sunoo sped up his movements, testing how much you could take before you’d actually break. A wide smirk spread across his lips when he brushed over your sweet spot causing you to clench around his fingers and a breathy moan finally leaving your now parted lips.

“Sir I wanna cum, please.” You whined out as your fingers dug into his shoulders.

Sunoo chuckled darkly before pumping his finger in and out of your pussy at a harsh pace. Lewd, wet sounds filled the room as you cried out weakly still trying to stay quiet. His fingers hitting your sweet spot had you almost toppling over the edge.

“Then cum princess,” That’s all it took before your jaw fell slack and your eyes rolled back a whine tearing through your throat. Sunoo wanted to burn the image in his head forever as he continued to pump his fingers into your sopping cunt.

He so badly wanted to torture you until you were begging him to fuck you, but he knew that he had all the time he needed. So he pulled his fingers away from your needy hole causing you to whine at the sudden empty feeling. 

You wanted to beg him to fuck you but you were also scared, you had never done anything like that before and it was horrifying. On the other hand, though it was also exciting because if it was going to be anything like you just felt now, you want it and more.

“Sunoo-” The redhead cut you off as he placed a kiss on the corner of your mouth leaving you to look at him with wide eyes.

“There’s no need to rush princess, we do have a lifetime after all.” He smirked but something was mincing about it that made your stomach turn. You opened your mouth to say something but the lights flickered and when you looked again, he was gone.

You groaned before flopping back on the bed, chest heaving with every breath as you stared blankly at the ceiling. Everything was going a hundred miles an hour in your head but the number one question you had for yourself was…

“What the hell did I get myself into?”

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 : @heesitation @riftanswhore @luvyong2z @heeslut4life @fromkamal @mari-marimar @topichoon @strxwbloody @yeonzzzn @marimariiiiiiii @m3chigo @seoniwoo

(If your user is bold and purple it means I couldn't tag you for whatever reason :( )

#alvojake writes ^^ #enhypen #enha #kpop #enha x reader #enha imagines #enhypen sunoo #enha sunoo #kim sunoo #kim sunoo smut #kim sunoo x reader #kim sunoo imagines #kim sunoo enhypen #sunoo #sunoo x reader #sunoo smut #enhypen jake #enhypen jay #enhypen heeseung #enha sunoo smut #enhypen sunoo smut #enhypen sunoo x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #jake enhypen #jake sim #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #jungwon enhypen #enhypen x you

[iamumbra195]

Random One Piece incorrect quotes cause I'm bored

Some of these are modern au though

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

*Sanji's not there*

Usopp: HELP! I TOLD LUFFY I’D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN’T COOK!

Zoro, pouring alcohol directly into a cereal bowl:

Zoro: And you thought I could help?

...

Luffy: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.

Nami : Wasn't Zoro with you?

Zoro: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised

...

Law: I trust Mugiwara-ya.

Penguin: You think he knows what he's doing?

Law: I wouldn't go that far.

...

Sabo: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life

Ace, confused: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

Sabo: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Luffy: edible

...

Nami: We need to get through this locked door. Usopp, give me your credit card.

Usopp: Here.

Nami, pocketing it: Thanks. Luffy, kick down the door.

...

Chopper: You know those things will kill you, right?

Zoro, pouring another glass of whiskey: That’s the point.

Sanji, smoking a cigarette: We’re trying to speed up the process.

Luffy: *Nods while eating raw cookie dough*

...

Robin: Why is Luffy so sad?

Nami: He took one of those “Which Character Are You?” quizzes

Robin: And...?

Nami: He got Buggy

*Zoro cackling in the background

...

Zoro: Self care is actually getting into fights with randos in dark alleys.

Nami: No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it, or taking a nice warm nap!

Kin'emon, trying to be poetic: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Self care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!!

Usopp: Lmao self care is taking Luffy's birthday meat cake just so I can eat the frosting.

Luffy: If you touch my meat cake I’ll make you eat your hands.

Sanji, losing his mind: WHY IS THERE FROSTING ON MEAT?

...

Franky, about Jinbe: Apparently we’re getting someone new in the group.

Robin: Are we stealing them?

Brook: New or used?

Franky, cackling: Wonderful responses, both of you.

...

Smoker: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.

Sanji: Shit.

Usopp: Wait, three?

Smoker: Yeah?

Nami: OH MY GOD ZORO FELL OFF!!!

...

Kin'emon: Tonight, one of you has betrayed us.

Ashura: Is it me?

Kin'emon: No, it’s not you.

Denjiro: Is it me, Kin?

Kin'emon: It’s not you either.

Kanjuro: Is it me, Kin'emon?

Kin'emon, bleeding from several debilitating injuries:

Kin'emon, mockingly: Is IT mE kiN'eMOn?

...

Usopp: Can I be frank with you guys?

Luffy, confused: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.

Chopper: Can I still be Chopper?

Franky, snickering: Shh, let Frank speak.

...

Sabo: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Koala: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Sabo: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING ROBIN-CHAN WITH ME

Hack, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

...

Law, walking into his submarine: Hello, people who do not belong here.

Zoro: Hey.

Sanji: Hi.

Robin: Hello.

Chopper: Hey!

Law: I gave you my vivre card for emergencies only!

Luffy, grinning: We were out of meat.

...

Sanji: You know, I'm starting to regret showing you how that blender works.

Luffy, drinking meat: Why do you say that?

...

Zoro: Do you take constructive criticism?

Nami: I only take cash or credit.

...

Koala: Why are you on the floor?

Sabo: I'm depressed.

Sabo: Also I was stabbed, can you get Ivankov, please.

...

Robin: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?

*everyone looks ay Karasu

Karasu: What? How am I supposed to know?

Lindbergh: You say, as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.

Karasu: *sighs*

Karasu: You wouldn't be trapped

...

Vivi: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.

Nami: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?

Vivi: Yes!

Usopp: ... I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.

...

Usopp: WHY. why did you give Luffy a KNIFE?!

Zoro, shrugging: He said he felt unsafe.

Usopp: Now I feel unsafe!

Zoro: ... would you like a knife?

...

Dragon: What did you do with the target's body?

Sabo : What didn’t I do with the body?

Dragon:

Sabo: Okay, that sounded more sexual than I intended. I disposed of the corpse respectfully.

...

Luffy, texting Ace: Ace! Help I’m being kidnapped

Ace: Where are you?

Luffy: I’m with some strange person. In a car. Help.

Ace: I’ll call Gramps.

Garp, answering their cell: Y’ello?

Ace: Where’s Luffy? He texted me that he was being kidnapped.

Garp: Luffy? Whaddya mean, he's right next to me-

Garp, who shaved his head:

Garp: I’ll call you back. *hangs up*

Garp: THE NEW HAIRCUT ISN’T THAT BAD!

Luffy: WHO ARE YOU?!

...

*Ace, Sabo and Luffy sitting in jail together*

Sabo: So who should we call?

Ace: I’d call Gramps, but I feel safer in jail

...

Roger: Garp, my old arch enemy.

Garp: ... I thought I was your only arch enemy?

Roger: I have a life outside of you, Garp

...

Zoro: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container.

Luffy: The cow???

Zoro: What?

Sanji: *disgusted shudder* LUFFY, W H Y?

...

Usopp: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 billion berry?

Zoro: Nami can stab me, and then when my leg gets better, we buy a big-ass house and erase my debt

Luffy: You can stab me too, then we'll have 20 billion.

Zoro: Good thinking.

...

Kin'emon: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night.

Denjiro: You were flirting with O'Tsuru.

Kin'emon: So what? She's my wife.

Denjiro: You asked her if she were single.

Kin'emon:

Denjiro: And then you cried when she said she wasn't

...

Marco: What time is it?

Ace: I don’t know; pass me that saxophone and we’ll find out

Ace: *Plays sax loudly and extremely out of tune*

Izou: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXOPHONE AT TWO IN THE MORNING

Ace, proudly: It’s 2 am

...

Luffy: I can’t believe you live nearby, and you won’t let anyone crash at your place.

Law: You people already know too much about me.

Kidd: I know exactly three facts about you, and one of them is that you won’t let any of us crash at your place.

...

Sabo, an enabler: Tell Ace about the birds and the bees.

Luffy: They're disappearing at an alarming rate.

...

Brook: Schrödinger’s cat is overrated. If you wanna see something that’s both dead and alive you can talk to me any time of the day.

...

Zoro: With great power comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.

...

Law: When someone points at your black clothes and asks whose funeral it is, having a look around the room and saying 'Haven’t decided yet' is typically a good response.

Bepo: Captain, no.

...

Law: Nothing in life is free.

Chopper: Love is free!

Luffy: Adventure is free!

Robin: Knowledge is free.

Nami: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

...

Usopp: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what Luffy will and will not eat.

Franky: Grass? Yes!

Usopp: Moss? Yes!!

Franky: Leaves? Ohh, yes!

Usopp: Shoelaces? Strange but true!

Franky: Worms? Sometimes!

Usopp: Rocks? Usually nah.

Franky: Twigs? Usually!

Usopp: Zoro's cooking? Inconclusive!

Chopper: How did you… test this?

Usopp: You just hand him stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if he eats it, he eats it.

Chopper: ... I don’t know how to feel about this.

Nami: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SHOELACES WENT?

Robin: What about humans? He tried to eat Crocodile once

Everyone: ...

Usopp: I think I might be too afraid to ask

(Someone pls draw this one XD)

...

Betty: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity?

Koala: *turning to Sabo* How tall are you?

...

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

That's it, this took forever to write lol

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #sabo #portgas d ace #koala #roronoa zoro #nami #black leg sanji #usopp #nico robin #franky #brook one piece #tony tony chopper #jinbe #trafalgar law #one piece incorrect quotes #asl brothers #strawhat pirates #heart pirates #revolutionary army #whitebeard pirates #akazaya nine #there's like a hundred others but I'm too lazy to tag them

[rainbow-nerdss]

Keep on walkin', and don't look back

Written for @augustwritingchallenge day 1: Sightless Steddie, 521 words. AO3 link

The plan has been weeks in the making, and it’s really their last chance to get him out.

Alive, at least.

Vecna’s control of Eddie is strong, and while Eleven was confident she’d be able to break it, he had to be taken from the upside down first. 

They’d tried capturing him, tried laying bait, food and music and everything else they knew he might be drawn to, but every time he spotted them, he either attacked or ran.

Max was the one who came up with a solution.

“Have you guys noticed he follows Steve sometimes, when we scout down there?”

“He follows me?” Steve frowned. 

“Yeah. He runs when any of us turn to look at him, but he always winds up on your trail.”

So there was Steve, back in the Upside Down, just waiting for Eddie to catch his scent and start to follow him.  

The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Steve hadn’t really had much of a chance to bond with Eddie, outside of their brief trek through the woods, right before Eddie— didn’t die. Even in that short exchange, though, Steve had felt drawn to Eddie. And it seemed some part of Eddie — somewhere in the animalistic, instinct-driven part of him that remained above Vecna’s control — was drawn to Steve, in return.

A twig snapped just out of sight, and Steve fought the urge to turn and see what had caused it. If they were right, if Eddie knew Steve was waiting for him, it would scare him off. So Steve didn’t look, he just continued on his way, pretending to investigate the scar of the rift which ran through the town. It was mostly sealed off now, but they needed to kill Vecna for good in order to finish the job. 

Before they could kill him, though, they needed Eddie out. 

Steve walked towards the entrance they’d agreed on, careful not to go so fast that Eddie lost his scent, nor so slowly that it was obvious he was making himself bait. 

His heart beat in his chest, so loud Steve had to wonder if Eddie could hear it. He was quiet, and Steve wondered if he was even there. If he’d come all this way for nothing, if Max had been wrong, and Eddie was following someone else.

The gate approached, and that was the danger zone. If Eddie had followed Steve all this way, then catching sight of the others would negate all of that. Eddie would run again. Steve paused at the edge of the gate, and a moment later, a breath ghosted over the back of his neck. 

It might not even be Eddie. It might have been a demogorgon following him all this time, or Vecna himself. He could be leading something dangerous to his friends without knowing it. Eddie might even be dangerous, especially if El’s confidence was misplaced.

Steve took a step forward and held one hand out behind him. 

A hand wrapped around his, cold fingers and a clammy palm. Steve stepped through the gate, and the creature which was once Eddie Munson followed.

#my fic #AU gust 2023 #AU gust fills #Steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

[mitsuyeaah]

SHAMELESS

RINDOU HAITANI x f! reader

“there’s just inches in between us, i want you to give in. there is tension in between us, i just wanna give in.”

cw: college au, mutual pining, slight angst (?), sexual tension, nsfw (minors dni), slight smut, dumb rindou, ran & sanzu cameo!! only proofread like once

word count: 7.5k

a/n: very first fic here on tumblr, inspired by shameless by camila cabello. a bit nervous to post this buut hope you guys enjoy!! i appreciate feedback! © divider: bushiroad

The sound of squeaking wheels filled your ears as you pushed the library book cart down the aisle, along with the occasional sound of turning of pages, the soft click clack of keyboards, and the quiet murmurs of students in a study session. It was half-past four in the afternoon which meant only 30 more minutes until your shift ended, but that didn’t really matter at the moment as your manager said you could go home early if all the returned books were taken back to their designated shelves.

You looked down at the black book cart, which now housed only one book that belonged to the music collection of the library; ‘Principles of Audio Production’ it read, in bold white letters. A small smile unknowingly formed on your lips as you made your way to the other end of the library, passing students either seated at study desks, and doing their own thing or students just simply looking for a book.

As you get to the music department, you immediately know which aisle the book belongs to, after all, you knew this department like the back of your hand. After it was neatly placed in its designated shelf and the book cart stored away in the storage room at the back, you headed for the small office on the ground floor to grab your belongings, and end your shift for the week.

You were only working part-time at your university library to at least ease the bills your parents had to pay, so you only came in during Wednesdays and Fridays as those were the days your schedule wasn't packed.

You bid goodbye to one of your co-workers who was manning the front desk, a beige knapsack secured against your back as you made your way out of the building. Walking past the glass sliding doors, you were met with a sudden cold gust of wind, your hair flying everywhere but away from your face. Mentally cursing the wind, you tried to tame your hair to see what’s ahead of you but it’s as if mother nature was playing tricks on you and decided that one more harsh blow of the wind was needed.

With the wind finally calming down after its small ‘tantrum’, you were finally able to see your surroundings, unobstructed and clearly. You caught a familiar figure on your left, leaning against the building with both hands tucked securely in the pants of his pockets, amethyst eyes already on you.

Rindou.

He was sporting a black hoodie and blue dark washed denim pants, his purple hair also swaying with the wind, effortless yet breathtaking. Rindou pushed himself off the wall and took a few steps before he was facing you, right arm extended out with his black sleeves slightly pushed back to reveal a singular black hair tie circling his wrist, “Here.” Rindou nudged his arm closer to you, indicating to take the hair tie. 

You briefly met his eyes to give him a small smile and mutter a “Thanks.” before removing the hair tie off his wrist, making contact with the dark ink that decorated his outer arm.

You never really saw his full tattoo apart from the one on his right arm when he would occasionally wear short-sleeved shirts on warmer weathers, but you did know that it continued to the right side of his chest and down to his right ankle. It was only because you hung out with him once after his gym session where he was sporting shorts and a black muscle tee that exposed maybe a little too much for your sanity, you weren’t complaining though.

“Don’t mention it. You looked like you were fighting for your life back there.” Rindou chuckled as he stuffed his right hand back into his pocket, watching you tie your hair in a ponytail. It's not the first time he’s given you a hair tie on an extremely windy day, but there’s just something different nowadays. Something you felt deep in your chest that you can’t quite pinpoint or clearly describe what exactly it is.

No, you can describe what it is, but you refused to acknowledge it because of this lingering question in your mind.

You playfully rolled your eyes at him and began walking, “No shit. I hate windy days so much.” you grumbled while shaking your head at the afternoon weather; gray clouds loomed over the city, accompanied by the harsh autumn winds.

It was routine for Rindou to wait for you until your shift finished, sometimes he would be hanging out in the music department of the library, absorbing various contents related to his studies while he waited. Other days he would be waiting outside the building like he did today, always unpredictable but that’s what you loved about him.

You never forced Rindou to wait for you after your shifts, he just turned up one day and decided that he was going to continue doing it just because. 

Rindou didn’t hesitate to match your pace as you two walked back toward the dormitories, “How was work? Busy?” he angled his face towards you, a small shiver running down his spine as another gust of wind blew. Maybe he should’ve worn something warmer than just a black hoodie.

You shook your head, staring ahead of you, “Nah, it wasn’t too busy in the library since it is a Friday. I think students would rather enjoy the start of the weekend than spend their afternoon holed up in the library.” Rindou didn’t really focus on your reply to his question, instead, he focused on the way your brows slightly furrowed because of the cold, the way your hair danced as the wind carried it, the way your eyes held light in them despite the gloomy weather, the way your lips moved with every word—

“Rindou?” He was brought back from his trance after you called out his name several times, “W-what?” his gaze immediately shifted from your lips to your eyes. You slightly shook your head to make a face, “I said, how come you have so many spare hair ties? Do you buy them just for me?” you teased him, wriggling your brows in a suggestive manner.

Rindou looked away too fast for his liking but replied with, “Shut up, I only bring some because I use them too. They’re not specifically for you.” He was met with laughter which made him return his gaze back to you, you were still looking at him but this time a teasing smile now dawned upon your face, brows furrowed but not because of the wind but because of confusion.

“You tie your mullet? I literally have never seen you do that.” Rindou scoffed and rolled his eyes, he ignored your question by changing the topic, “Oh that’s right, Ran wanted to meet up with you later for that assignment you guys were working on?”

Now it was your turn to scoff, you had totally forgotten about the assignment due at midnight. Now here you are, sulking about having to cancel tonight’s plan of binge watching movies because of a stupid assignment. The assignment wasn’t really that important as it was from one of your general education courses, but it would be nice to see good grades on your transcript. Plus, Ran was a slight perfectionist underneath his playful personality.

Although Ran was a year older than you and was doing a completely different degree, you two became friends because of the shared general education course you both took, a course not offered by both your respective faculties.

Ran was a business major and in his last year of studies but that didn’t stop you two from creating an unforgettable friendship. “Fuck, I totally forgot about that! Is he back at the dorms? I might just go to him now so we can finalize the assignment.” Rindou nodded, and you both headed for their shared dorm.

—

“I honestly don’t even know why I took this shit! Rindou, you said this was going to be easy.” Ran loudly complained, his brows furrowed and lips downturned as he ran his fingers through his short purple hair. You and Ran were sitting across one another at their dining table, laptops in front of you with a shared google doc pulled up.

The general education course you and Ran had taken was an Arts paper which taught the history of music, so now you and Ran were stuck writing about music. You honestly didn’t even know why you chose this course in the first place. Rindou chuckled as he brought over two cups of coffee from the kitchen, setting one beside your laptop and taking a sip out of the other. “Where’s mine?” Ran questioned, his frown deepening as he anticipated his hot drink, his eyes following his younger brother as he took a seat beside you.

“You have hands, make your own.” Rindou mumbled, eyes were glued to your laptop screen, he scooted his chair closer so he could get a better look at what you and Ran were working on.

As Rindou leaned closer, his cologne engulfed your nostrils, the scent you’ve grown to love over the past few months; it was sweet but mixed with an earthy aroma. It took all your willpower not to slightly lean away from the man, you weren’t uncomfortable with the closeness but he does unexplainable things to you every single time he comes close. You nervously bit your lip as you could now feel the heat his body radiated.

Ran narrowed his eyes at Rindou–who was still getting closer to you–and shifted his eyes to you, frozen on the wooden seat and eyes abnormally glued to the laptop, he mentally laughed at the scene unfolding in front of him before speaking up again.

“Okay, last time I checked, it was our study session. You’re not even a part of this.” He rested his chin on the palm of his right hand while his left hand scrolled up and down the shared document. Rindou replied, still not looking at his brother “And last time I checked, you needed my help. Plus, this is basically related to what I’m studying so I’m staying here.”

Rindou majored in Music Business which was the study of songwriting, entrepreneurial practices, and revenue flow. He was in second year just like you and you only knew him because of his older brother, and have met him countless of times during your study sessions back at their dorm.

Unlike with Ran, It took quite a while to build a friendship with Rindou as he was more introverted and closed off, but it was worth it since he’s been nothing but a wonderful friend to you. Sometimes you question if he sees you more than one due to the countless times he’s acted towards you.

A smirk made its way across Ran’s face, Rindou could see it from his peripheral vision, a smile too wide for the younger’s liking but he decided to ignore it, “Are you sure it’s not because of…” Ran trailed off as Rindou finally looked up at his older brother with a glare, their eyes briefly meeting before Ran shifted his gaze over to you–who was still looking at the shared document–and back to Rindou, lifting a brow. Little shit, Rindou thought.

If looks could kill, Ran would be dead right now. Rindou was practically sending daggers across the table and toward his older brother, although this only entertained Ran even more as he bursted out laughing while throwing his head back. His behaviour snapped you out of your thoughts, your confused gaze shifting between the two siblings, the one beside you was scowling while the other across from you was still laughing. Typical Haitani siblings behaviour.

—

After a chaotic but productive study session, you were supposed to be on your way back to your own dorm but instead, you were walking to the convenience store under a small shared umbrella with Rindou while the rain poured non-stop.

It was quarter to seven in the evening and you were craving for something sweet, the sky was much darker than it was before and the gusts of wind now colder than the afternoon ones. “I could’ve managed on my own..” you mumbled against the brown scarf wrapped around your neck that Rindou had pulled from his closet, it smelled like him, so everytime you inhaled, his scent engulfed your nostrils.

“There’s no way in hell I would leave you alone, especially with the weather this bad. ‘Sides, it’s already dark out— goodness, come here! You’re getting your clothes wet.” Rindou wraps his left arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, your right arm flushed against his side.

You thought that once he was done pulling you closer to him, he’d remove his arm from your waist but he didn’t. He firmly kept his arm around you for the whole trip to the convenience store, like it was meant to be there and you swear you could feel his burning touch through your thick clothes, it was so warm, he was so warm; such a nice contrast from the cold autumn night.

It was always like this with Rindou ever since you met him. He would always behave in such a way that would make you question your status with him, was this really you two being just friends? There were days where he wouldn’t test the boundary of your friendship, but there were also some days that he would, and boy did he test it to the max.

Those days were the days where he would be needier than usual and ask for things that friends definitely didn't do.

“I’m so tired, ‘s okay if I rest on you for a bit?” He asked you one time but he didn’t wait for your answer and also didn’t hesitate to lean his head against your left shoulder. 

You two were both at the library at that time, you were watching the lecture you missed out on while he… was just chilling. You two stayed that way until you literally had to tell Rindou that your shoulder was becoming tired, and he needed to wake up; it led to him apologizing and massaging the shoulder he leaned on, it felt nice. Really nice, too nice. Nice enough that you just had to let out a breathy sigh because of how good it felt, “Fuck, that actually feels so good.” you slightly tilted your head to the right to give him more access.

Rindou swallowed at your behaviour and uncomfortably shifted in his seat, Fuck, he thought, something deep inside stirring like a storm waiting to rage. “Yeah?” was all he could muster, he couldn’t think properly, not when you looked so pretty and responsive to his touches.

Another time was when he asked you if he could hold your hand because he felt down–whatever that meant–and you did let him, for some odd reason. Sometimes there would also be his stares that lingered around your face for too long, specifically your lips; he wouldn’t even try to hide it at some point, a weird glint in his eyes as he stared at your soft lips.

You would ask him ‘what?’ and he would just shrug and say ‘so pretty’. Sometimes there would just be comfortable silence between the two of you while you both sat inside his car, just basking in silence when he would ask if you wanted to come with him during his night drives.

And ever since those days, the boundary between friendship and lovers was becoming more and more blurry and you didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what to do with the question that has been lingering in your mind ever since the day he tested the boundaries.

The warmth that his body radiated comforted you so much, it made you forget about everything else. The people around you, the cars driving past, the loud pattering of the rain against the umbrella, and the coldness of the night. God, you wanted to be this close to him for the rest of your life. Or maybe even closer–

Wait what? What the fuck am I thinking? You thought to yourself.

You shook your head slightly as if it would dissipate the storm of thoughts clouding your mind, Rindou noticed your movement and looked down at you, “You okay?” a glint of concern dawning upon his pretty amethyst eyes, oh to get lost in them forever. “Hm? Yeah… just a bit cold ‘s all.” you replied, which made Rindou tighten his grip around you. “We're almost there.”

Rindou shook off the excess water from the umbrella and shoved it inside a small metal basket provided by the convenience store while you both entered. “I’m going to have a look around too, maybe ask Ran if he wants anything.” you nodded at him before going your separate ways inside the store.

After grabbing several sweets–that you’re probably going to devour all by tonight–you decided it was also a good idea to stock up on some food and necessities for your dorm. Rindou appeared out of nowhere and took your basket, placing a few things he got for him and his older brother, “You almost done?”

You nodded before placing a box of hair dye inside the plastic basket that Rindou now held in his hand. He squinted at the packaging which read ‘pink’, were you about to dye your hair pink? He didn’t question your intentions but it did make him a tad bit curious.

“I’ll pay for this.” and with that, he wordlessly turned around and started walking to the counter before you could protest. “Rindou, I know you’re as broke as I am. Let me just pay for my things!” you walked faster to catch up to him, but the clerk already began to scan and bag the items.

“We’ll split the payment!” you told the clerk, and stood beside Rindou, a hand encasing around his wrist in case he tried to pay for all the things himself. Your touch made Rindou flustered more than it should have, it was nothing but a simple touch, so why was he acting like a teenage boy? God, he’s so fucking embarrassing.

After finally getting around to splitting the bill, you and Rindou thanked the clerk as he handed you two bags and headed for the exit, not forgetting to take the wet umbrella from the basket at the entrance. “Holy shit, it’s gotten worse.” Rindou looked up at the pitch black sky, one hand holding the bags and the other holding the opened umbrella.

The rain was now pouring harder which made it hard to clearly see the surroundings, it also didn’t help that it was now darker out. “I told you I could manage on my own. Your dorm is farther from here than mine.” you sighed as you inched closer to him, yearning for the warmth of his body.

Before he could respond, you opened your mouth again, “You know what? I can’t let you go back with the weather like this. You can stop by my place first and wait it out, it’s only… quarter-past seven. I live alone, so it's okay.” you shoved your phone back into the pocket of your jacket after checking the time. Rindou absent-mindedly nodded, “Mhm, yeah, you’re right— wait what?” he quickly turned his head to you but you were already pulling him toward the direction of your dormitories.

Holy fuck. Rindou thought to himself.

He’s never been inside your dorm. Yeah, he’s been in the building a couple of times to drop you off or pick you up but he has never been physically inside your room, it was always you coming over to the shared dorm with his older brother or just simply hanging out somewhere around the campus for study sessions and whatnots. Rindou would be lying to himself if he said his mind wasn’t playing hundreds of scenarios of what would happen once you two get inside your dorm, he wants to curse himself for thinking that way but he just can’t help it, not when you literally drive him crazy.

Rindou didn’t notice that the both of you had already arrived in the building and was now standing in front of your door, you swiped your ID card on the reader and it made a little noise before you opened the door. He took in your room, it wasn’t decorated as much and looked like your typical university dorm but it was cozy, it was definitely smaller than his and Ran’s but it made sense as this was only built to accommodate one person.

“Did you… want anything? Water? Something to eat?” you asked Rindou as you made your way to your kitchen to set the bags down on the counter after taking your shoes and scarf off, before he could respond, a knock caught both of your attention. Were you having someone else over tonight? Rindou thought. A slight pang of jealousy made its way to his chest.

You walked past him and opened the door, Rindou took a few steps closer as well, curious to see who would be knocking at your door at this time; a pink haired man came into view as you swung the door open. Who the fuck dyes their hair pink? Rindou thought to himself, but he couldn’t really say much, not with the purple hair he had.

“Oh, hey! Did you manage to get that thing I asked about? So sorry for making you run an errand for me— Oh… am I interrupting something?” the stranger’s turquoise eyes darted between you and Rindou, slight embarrassment dawning upon his pretty face.

“Shit, thanks for reminding me, and yes, I did manage to buy. Also, Rindou, this is Haruchiyo, he lives next door. Haru, this is Rindou, a friend of mine. I’ll be right back, I’ll grab it real quick.” you quickly introduced both men to one another before leaving them two alone to grab the item Haru asked you to buy. Rindou awkwardly cleared his throat, his hand coming up to scratch his nape, “So uh… what’s your major?”.

Haruchiyo, who was mindlessly fidgeting with his hands, looked up at Rindou “Hm? Oh, Chemistry. The same as her.” he answered, pointing a finger in your general direction. Rindou slowly nodded, letting out a small ‘oh’ at the information, if he was being honest, Rindou could care less about this man in front of him but you were taking too long to find the damn item Haruchiyo asked you to buy, so he had to act like he was interested in the stranger in front of him.

Before Rindou could open his mouth for another question–in which he wouldn’t be interested in the answer–to the pink haired man in front of him, you finally came back with the item Haru had asked you to buy. It was the hair dye he saw you place into the basket earlier, pink hair dye.

Oh, so that’s what the hair dye was for…, Rindou thought. Haruchiyo smiled and eagerly grabbed the small box as you handed it over to him, “A life saver, Thanks! I’ll get going now and transfer you the money… Nice meeting you, Rindou.” Rindou gave him a nod of acknowledgement before Haruchiyo left.

Rindou couldn’t pinpoint what it was but he didn’t like Haruchiyo, not one bit. Maybe it was the way his turquoise eyes lit up when you came back into the view, or maybe it was because you two were practically living next door, or maybe it was basically a given that you and Haruchiyo see each other almost every day as you’re both doing the same major— 

What the actual fuck, Rindou. Get your shit together. He mentally cursed himself.

“How long have you known him for?” Rindou asked as he followed you further into your dorm, he pulled a wooden chair out from the dining table which scraped the wooden floor a little too loud, Rindou winced at the sound before sitting on the chair. “Hm? I’ve known Haru since first year…” you explained your friendship with Haruchiyo to him while sorting the things you bought, but he didn’t really listen because the only thing in his mind was the nickname you gave the pink haired man.

Haru.

Why didn’t he get a nickname? He wanted a nickname.

Before Rindou could finally reply, you were already giving him a confused look, “You okay? Been spacing out a lot… also, did you want to watch a movie to pass time?” you walked over to your small living room and sat on the two-seater couch, the black leather creaking under your weight. Rindou stood up from his seat and awkwardly padded over to where you were, “Yeah, I’m fine.” he sat next to you, shoulders brushing against one another.

“What movie did you want to wat—” “Some girl in my class asked me out today.” he cut you off, it was true, a classmate had asked him out after one of his classes today and he has yet to give an answer. Rindou didn’t know why he brought it up, he just felt like he had to but he didn’t know for exactly what reason. His sudden confession caught you off guard. You met his stare, amethyst eyes unwavering, there it was again, that weird glint in his eyes.

You don’t know how long you two looked into each other's eyes, one, two, three or more seconds? Until you finally spoke up, uncertainty in your tone, “Congrats?... what did you say?” you shifted your gaze to your fingers, picking on your nails. To be very honest, you weren’t happy for him. Not one bit.

You were jealous, you wished you had the courage that girl did but you didn’t, and now someone else is out there trying to claim him. Your Rindou. But then again, you didn’t know where your status stood with him, he never clarified what you two were because after the days that he tested the boundaries, he would act indifferent, like he didn’t just hold your hand the other day, like he didn’t almost kiss you. For fucks sakes, you were confused as hell.

You didn’t know what to make of the information but it had you wanting to hear his answer more than anything. Had he said yes? What if he did and they’d already gone on a date before he came by the library today? My goodness you were so fucking pathetic for hiding your feelings for Rindou. You wanted to pull your hair out because the possibility of Rindou saying yes is high—

“I haven’t given her an answer… but I know I’ll most likely say no.” Oh my god you knew it. You fucking knew he’d say yes to—

Wait what?

Oh.

Oh.

“Why not? I’m sure she’s nice—” “I want someone else.” you met his gaze again, this time you stared into each other's eyes much longer. It was so silent that you could hear your own racing heartbeat, the ticking of the clock on the wall, your breaths that's become shallow, you didn’t know how to respond. You could feel tingles all over your body as he looked at you like he wanted you, you swear your head was almost spinning with how close Rindou suddenly was.

Your senses were heightened. You could smell his sweet scent that drove you oh so crazy, you could feel the heat he radiated, but this time it was burning. It wasn’t just warm, no. It was hot, he was hot, literally. He burns for you. You didn’t miss the way his lavender eyes slowly traced your features one by one before finally settling on your plump lips. And you also didn’t miss the way Rindou took in a sharp breath as he stared at them, almost as if it pained him to not be kissing it at this very moment. Fuck, he was so tempted.

“Can I… kiss you?” he whispered as he once again met your gaze, and thickly swallowed. God, the only thing holding him back at this very moment was your permission, he wouldn’t know what to do if you said no.

With how gorgeous Rindou looked right now, you couldn’t trust your voice so you just slowly nodded your head. You swore Rindou muttered a faint ‘fuck’ under his breath before he wasted no time to close the gap between the two of you.

You were sweet. So fucking sweet. He was now fully facing you–his left shoulder touching the backrest of the sofa–your chin situated between his right thumb and index finger, tilting your head toward him as he devoured you. His kisses were hungry and rough, like there was some sort of history behind it all, like he’d been waiting his whole life to do just this.

But you couldn’t complain, never, you liked it a lot; your whole body was burning with lust, sparks flying as Rindou pressed further into you with desperation as if you were about to turn into dust any time and slip out of his very hands.

Rindou was out of his mind. Your lips were soft and pillowy against his, just how he liked it, and it drove him crazy. The way you let out soft moans against his lips, the way both your hands clung tightly onto his hoodie, like it was the only thing that’s keeping you grounded right now. So responsive. So vulnerable. He wanted to ruin you so bad.

You don’t know how but Rindou managed to slip you out of your jacket, only noticing that it was off as the cold air of your dorm engulfed your bare arms. You slowly pulled away from Rindou to catch your breath, slightly pushing him away as he was trying to catch your lips. He leaned his forehead against your, both your chests heaving, breaths mixing together as you two basked in warm silence. Rindou wasn’t done with you.

He gave your now swollen lips a peck before heading for your cheek, trailing light kisses down your jaw until he reached your neck. Rindou gave you soft experimental kisses where your shoulder met your neck, to which you responded with sweet whines and the call of his name. “Fuck… Rindou.” you breathed out as he licked a stripe up your neck and sucked on the same spot that made you whine for him.

Your hands flew up to his lavender hair as Rindou began trailing kisses down to your collar bones. “R-rindou wait! Hold on…” you slowly pushed him away as you felt his hands attempting to tug your shirt up, Rindou pulled away, concern clouding his lustful gaze as he questioned you, “What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?” he panted out. You shook your head but he saw something different in your eyes, like there was something you wanted to say.

“Rindou?” “Hm?” “What are we?”

There. You said it, you said the question that’s been buried deep into the back of your mind ever since your established friendship with Rindou Haitani.

“I–I don't…? We’re friends, what do you mean?” his brows furrowed. You had to close your eyes and take a deep breath, anger bubbling up from within, “Exactly, Rindou! We’re friends… and friends don’t do this, right?” you argued with desperation in your tone. Is he fucking dumb? Did he really just have the audacity to say ‘we’re friends’ after he marked your neck dark red and purple? After he just kissed you like a starved man? After almost slipping you out of your shirt? 

Rindou knew that. He knew that friends didn’t act the way you two did but he just wasn’t ready to face this conversation. Yes, he’s a coward, and a big one at that.

“Why did you even tell me that some girl in your class asked you out? What do you feel for me, Rindou?” you pressed further, wanting immediate answers from the man in front of you. He had an expression you couldn’t understand, like he looked troubled. Fighting a mental war within himself while he remained quiet.

Your heart sank as he just sat there avoiding eye contact, your once lustful gaze turning into nothing but mere anger and possibly hatred. “I think I should go…” he mumbled–more to himself than to you–quickly scrambling from the couch and towards your door. The fucking audacity, you thought. “Really, Rindou?! You’re just going to run away like a fucking coward? We’re both adults here for fucksakes! At least face this head-on!” you stood up, raising your voice at him, but Rindou never said anything nor turned back once. He just quietly put his shoes on and left without a word.

The slam of the door resonated throughout your dorm as you stood there all alone, your neck marked and heart broken in a million pieces by someone that was never yours from the very start. You felt dumb. How foolish of you to think he actually felt the same way, maybe he just stuck around because of lust. You felt so used and angry that tears uncontrollably fell from your eyes, your breathing erratic but this time it's from anger. You sat down on the couch and took deep breaths while closing your eyes, wishing it would all just go away once you open them back again.

Rindou was unpredictable but was this really what you loved about him?

—

You felt like shit. For the past few weeks, you were in a sour mood, nothing entertained nor interested you. You watched the hues of red and purple on your neck fade as days passed. Rindou stopped coming by the end of your shifts at the library, he never texted or called to apologize about that night, he didn’t wait for you outside your dormitory to walk you to class, he didn’t wait outside your class to hangout at the library.

It was like Rindou was never even there from the start. It wasn’t hard for him to avoid you as you were both in different faculties–him being in the Arts and you being in the Science Faculty–although you did wish that you would run into him somehow when you headed over to the School of Arts for the general education class you had with Ran.

Hangouts with Ran became less frequent as he was embarrassed about what his younger brother did to you, it was also limited to either the library or somewhere around the campus, as going back to his and Rindou’s shared dorm was no longer a viable option. But he acted indifferent toward you, despite the situation. Ran cherished his friendship with you and he was not going to let his younger brother taint it.

It was one of those nights where you binged watched movies up to the point where your eyes couldn’t handle it anymore. The clock on your laptop read ‘2:39 am’, your eyes were droopy and you couldn’t care less about the movie playing in front of you, the voices of the actors turning into a soft muffled sound as you fought to stay awake. You were on your bed, your laptop that was once resting on your stomach slowly sliding off and onto the sheets.

Loud desperate knocks on your door jolted you awake, your heart rate suddenly increasing from the unexpected loud sound at this hour of the morning. You swore that if it was Haru knocking at this ungodly hour, you were not only going to kill him, but also ignore his desperate pleas for help during your laboratory sessions. You let out a grunt as you threw your sheets off you and moved your laptop out of the way.

Your warm feet slowly padded against the cold wooden floor as you made your way over to your door. You weren’t too worried about it being an intruder as the building did require ID cards to present before entering it, therefore suggesting that whoever is knocking at your door is a student; with a sigh, you undid the locks and slowly opened the door, “I swear to god Haruchiyo, if you’re asking me to dye your hair this early again—” your sentence was cut short as the opened door did in fact not reveal your pink haired friend.

The man who stood before you was purple haired. Your heart skipped a beat.

The same man who has been avoiding you like the plague, and who disappeared without a single explanation. Rindou looked like shit. The bags under his eyes were prominent, his purple hair tousled and chest heaving. Did he run here? At 2 in the fucking morning? You thought.

You didn’t know how to feel about this, a part of you wanted to slam the door shut and go back to your warm sheets but the other part wanted to see where this went. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out, there was nothing in your mind at this very moment. All you knew is that your heart yearned for him but you couldn’t look him in the eye, not when he left you hanging like that.

“I’ve been thinking about you…” Rindou was the first one to break the silence, his amethyst eyes studying your features with concern. You looked tired, too, and empty. Your eyes didn’t hold that special glint in them like before.  “I don’t know what else to say to you.” you quietly responded, looking anywhere but his eyes; you knew if you made eye contact with them, you’d be sucked back in and forget about everything else, but you can’t be fooled anymore. Not for a second time.

Rindou let out a heavy sigh, “Please look at me..” his tone laced with pure desperation, it pained you to hear him like this, he sounded so broken and lost, like he didn’t know what was right or wrong anymore. “Rindou, look, this clearly isn’t a good idea. I know you don’t feel the same way—”

“Please, can we just talk about this?” he cut you off, coming a step closer, to which you responded by defensively taking a step back. Rindou noticed this and refrained himself from coming any closer, like he might hurt you if he did. “Can I come in? Please, I just want to talk things out… that’s the least I can do for you.” he watched as you weighed out the pros and cons of letting Rindou inside, biting your lower lip as you decided.

With a sigh, you fully opened the door, stepping aside as you replied with, “I guess there’s no harm in that…” you finally met his eyes, his gaze softening like it was the only thing he needed to calm the storm behind his stare.

You both made your way to the couch, where all this mess started.

The black leather creaked under your weights as the both of you settled on it, both uncomfortably clinging to each end of the couch, not wanting to make awkward physical contact with one another.

Rindou cleared his throat and fully turned to you, “I’m sorry. It took me so long to realize my feeli— no, actually, I’ve known my feelings for you ever since but..” he trailed off, looking down at his hands. It shouldn’t have made you this happy to know that, but your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat. He liked you back.

“...I don’t know what got into me that night. I guess I was just… scared?” Rindou sighed, burying his face in his palms. Maybe he should’ve just stayed home. No matter how much he can explain himself, there was just no justifying for what he did to you that night. He had no right to devour you like that and leave within the next minute because he got scared of your question.

It was your turn to face him, brows furrowed, anger and confusion slowly seeping into you, “Scared? Scared of what, Rindou?” you questioned, slightly raising your voice. You’ve had enough of his bullshit. “God, I don’t know, okay?!” Rindou removed his face from his palms and looked at you, tears welling up in his eyes.

He closed them for a bit to try and steady his breathing. “I just like you so much that I don’t even know what to do anymore. I just want to be with you, I want to be by your side as much as I can, and it hurts me that I made you cry..” Rindou avoided your gaze as he opened his eyes again. He was never the type to genuinely confess his feelings nor was the sappy type, so you knew this was very difficult for him to do, and you respected him for going out of his comfort zone.

Now it was your turn to ask him to look at you, it took you several attempts before he finally did so. A single tear ran down his cheek as he made eye contact with you, god, you wanted to hug him so bad. You forced a small smile, “You can have me, Rindou… I’ve been yours from the very start.” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his, to reassure him that you meant every single word you said.

Before he could reply, you started speaking again, “..I’m so tired of having somebody that’s not mine.”

“A-and I know you feel the same way as I do… but do you still want me?” you inched closer to him, your eyes holding his intense gaze, you weren’t about to back down from this. You needed to know his answer. “I want you so fucking bad that it physically hurts me. Call me shameless but that’s exactly how I feel.” Rindou replied, his voice dropping an octave while he held your gaze. Two can play at this game, he thought. Something in the air shifted, the mood was now completely different.

You let out a dry chuckle, “Show me how shameless you are, then. Why don’t you write it on my neck?”

Rindou swore under his breath, wasting no time pressing his lips against your own, he missed this so much. He missed the way the warmth of your lips ignited his whole body, he missed the way his chest tingled with delight, he missed the way you moaned against his lips even though he had barely touched you.

He pulled away and trailed hot open-mouthed kisses on your jaw and down to your neck, where you liked him the most. “Mhm… Rindou…” you moaned out his name, both hands flying to his hair, pushing him closer to your neck as he nibbled on the same spot he had previously marked, paying extra attention to it as it made you moan his name in a way that he isn’t going to forget any time soon. “Fuck, you’re so needy for me, huh?” Rindou swore, his voice raspy and low. It did things to you.

You let out a whine as he trailed even further down, sucking on your collarbones. His mouth felt so heavenly against your bare skin, but you needed more. You wanted to be closer to him. “R-rindou…” you whined, you don’t even know what you want from him but saying his name just felt right. “What do you want, princess? Use your words.” He gave your collarbone–that was now littered with hues of purple and red–one last peck before swiftly tugging your shirt off.

The cool early morning air hit your bare chest, you shuddered as Rindou sucked on a spot just above your nipple, his warm mouth being a complete contrast from the air. He gently pushed you further into the couch until your back was met with the cool leather, and Rindou was on top of you, in between your legs. “Oh fuck..” you threw your head back against the arm rest as he placed a nipple inside his mouth, alternating between sucking and licking, he gave your other breast attention using his hand, massaging it and rolling the bud between his fingers. Rindou panted heavily against your chest, “So pretty for me.”

He made his way back up and kissed you once again, grinding his clothed cock against you, he let out a whine as he rested his face on your neck. The friction felt so good, he didn’t know if he was even gonna last long. “Fuck, I want you so bad.” he groaned, teeth clenching from the unbearable pleasure he felt.

“I’m all yours, Rindou.”

With that, he showed you how badly he wanted you, over and over again. You saw parts of him that you haven’t seen before, the vulnerability, the intimacy, and the true feelings he held for you. And oh, you were finally able to see the entirety of his tattoo, from his arm, right down to his ankles and everything in between.

© mitsuyeaah

#rindou haitani #rindou x reader #rindou x you #rindou smut #rindou x y/n #rindou angst #tokrev rindou #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers angst #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers #oneshot

[nhularin]

PERFECT DUO

PAIRING idol!mc!sunghoon x idol!mc!reader GENRE fluff, idol au SYNOPSIS when sunghoon forgot his lines, you just know what to do WARNINGS none WC 494 words

SUNGHOON PACED NERVOUSLY BACKSTAGE, his heart pounding in his chest. This week, he had been given the opportunity to co-host music bank and the thought of standing on that stage, in front of millions of viewers, with you, was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat.

Just as his anxiety reached its peak, he heard a familiar voice calling out to him. "Sunghoon! Hey, over here!"

Relief washed over him as he hurriedly made his way towards you. "Thank goodness you're here," Sunghoon sighed, wiping away imaginary beads of sweat from his forehead. "I was starting to panic.

You chuckled, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Don't worry, Sunghoon. We've got this. We're going to rock this stage and have the time of our lives!"

Sunghoon couldn't help but be infected by your enthusiasm. "Yeah, you're right," he replied, a determined look on his face. "Let's do this together!"

As the cameras started rolling, the two of you took your positions on the stage, ready to introduce the first act. But just as Sunghoon opened his mouth to speak, a sudden gust of wind blew through the set, causing his cue cards to scatter all over the stage.

"Oh no!" Sunghoon exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief. "I can't remember what I'm supposed to say!"

You burst into laughter, unable to contain yourself. "Well, Sunghoon, looks like it's time to put your improvisation skills to the test!" you teased, trying to stifle your giggles.

With a determined frown, Sunghoon took a deep breath and looked directly into the camera. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special surprise for you today!" he announced, his voice filled with confidence. "Instead of following the script, we're going to perform a magic trick!"

The audience gasped in surprise, their curiosity piqued. Sunghoon winked at you, and together, you both began to wave your hands dramatically, pretending to make something appear out of thin air.

"Ta-da!" Sunghoon exclaimed, holding up a plush toy from behind his back. "Behold, the amazing disappearing cue cards! They're gone!"

The crowd erupted into laughter and applause, thoroughly entertained by your impromptu act. Sunghoon couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him, realizing that sometimes, the best moments were the ones that weren't planned.

Throughout the rest of the show, you and Sunghoon continued to bring laughter and joy to the audience. From silly dance-offs between performances to hilarious skits, the two of you improvised your way through the show, turning every mishap into a memorable moment.

As the cameras faded to black, you turned to Sunghoon, a wide grin on your face. "Well, Sunghoon, I'd say we nailed it," you said, playfully nudging his side.

Sunghoon chuckled, the tension of the day finally dissipating. "Yeah, you did pretty good, yn. Good job" he couldn't hide the blush creeping on his cheeks as he let out those words and made his way to the fitting room

Cute

#enhypen headcanons #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #sunghoon #sunghoon smau #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon headcanons #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fluff #enhypen #enhypen smau #enhypen headcanon #enhypen drabbles

[psychedelic-ink]

For the writing game: Maybe love potion / flower shop AU. I was thinking maybe the reader owns the shop and gets aphrodisiac petals or something as a gift and doesn’t think they’ll work but then they DO. With Joel please.

thank you for requesting anon! and sorry for the wait 💗

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: flower shop AU

word count: 1.6k

summary: after seeing a delivery of supposedly aphrodisiac petals, you give them a try, convinced that they wouldn't work. Joel finds you in a not-so-professional position.

warnings: aphrodisiac (only reader is affected), female masturbation, accidental voyeurism, piv

Through the creaking wooden door, a gust of chilly wind infiltrates the flower shop, causing the faded brass bell above to quiver faintly. The scent of flowers permeates the air, mingling with the rich aroma of old books and polished wood. You’re staring at the walls that are adorned with ancient botanical prints with a bored expression. Days like these are always boring. 

Raindrops tap rhythmically on the foggy windows. 

Your eyes are drawn to the new shipment, hastily unloaded from a weathered truck parked just outside. The cardboard boxes, marked with fading ink. You rush to collect them, your fingers tingling with anticipation. Finally, something to do. 

Thanking the delivery man, you head back inside. Normally, by this hour, you would have at least a couple of people within the shop. No one runs to by flowers when it’s raining cats and dogs. 

While you slowly cut open the boxes, taking out the tulips and daffodils, your mind wonders to a particular visitor that comes in almost everyday. You wonder if he’ll show up today too. Probably not. Besides he’s a busy man, Joel Miller. One day he popped into your store by mistake, thinking it was a bakery—how he thought that you had no idea—and ever since he’s been a constant present in your life. He always buys a bouquet before he leaves. You never asked who they were for.

Sometimes he even helps with the shop. Fixing the leaking ceiling and the sink in the back. He had a habit of calling you wildflower, which made your insides churn with searing heat. 

Placing all the flowers meticulously on the table, your hands deftly arranging each stem, your eyes search for the scissors. But something catches your attention—a smaller box discreetly tucked behind the larger ones. You open the cardboard box. Inside rests a smaller, more ornate box, adorned with intricate designs. Your eyes narrow when you notice something inscribed on top of it. 

Gently running your fingers over the polished surface, you decipher the inscription etched on top in elegant script: "Edible Petals, Beware Aphrodisiac."

You raise an eyebrow and lift lid off the box, a profusion of vibrant petals greets your gaze. 

“What the fuck?” you whisper to no one, bringing your nose close. You delicately inhale their subtle aroma, a heady sweetness fills the air, mingling with the dampness of rain-soaked blossoms.

This must be a joke, you think, a low chuckle parting your lips. As if eating a flower petal would ever get you horny. You dig the tips of your fingers into the small box, feeling the cool, velvety petals against your cold skin. It feels nice, you’ll give them that at least. 

Your curiousity gets the better of you and you place one purple petal on top of your outstretched tongue.

Joel feels like an idiot. 

He knew it was going to rain today. He had a plan. A very nice and smooth plan, something that neither Tommy nor Sarah believed that he came up with it on his own but he did. 

It was a very nice, simple plan. Yet, he even managed to screw that up. Of all the thinking he did, he hadn’t considered the traffic slowing him down. He should’ve been at the flower shop hours ago. He’d even bought two chocolate croissants, the ones that you can’t seem to get enough of. But the paper bag was now soaked and so was he. 

All week he thought about you and how he would spend the day with you, alone, in that cozy little flower shop. 

The bell chimed upon his entry like it always does. The sound automatically soothing his stuttering heart. He quickly scans his surroundings, empty. The shop is empty. Joel swallows down his disappointment when he doesn’t see you arranging flowers in your usual spot—maybe you were already done for the day? 

He shakes his head. That couldn’t be it, the shop is still open. 

“Wildflower?” he calls out, placing the wet bag on the counter. “You there?” 

Starting to get worried, Joel heads to the back, hoping that you might be in the walk-in floral cooler. “Wildflower?” he repeats. 

Just as he’s greeted with the familiar sight of fresh flowers— Joel hears you. 

A soft moan, a barely there sound. He steps closer, the sounds getting louder and louder. He hears a whimper, then another, louder, moan. When he steps around the corner Joel sees you, the sight shooting directly to his cock. 

Your jeans, along with your panties, were pooled around your ankles, your hand between your legs. His mouth floods at the sight of your fingers disappearing into your soaked heat. Your lips parted, your eyes roll back. Arousal stirs in his gut when you grind down, your other hand shakily lifts your shirt and you pinch a nipple. Hard. 

“Joel. . .” 

His eyes go wide. Did you see him? 

Another loud moan. 

“Joel. . . harder—fuck—please,” with a whimper you throw your head back, igivng him a delicious view of your neck and chest. “God—You feel so good. . .” 

Joel swallows, his cock now fully hard under his jeans. His eyes fixed on you, he adjust himself with the rough stroke of his palm. He needs to let you know that he’s here, even if he doesn’t want to— he’s much rather watch and enjoy the show. His chest heaves as he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, whatever happens next, at least he’ll have your debouched expression forever engraved into his mind. 

“Wildflower,” he says loudly, opening the door. “I—” 

“Joel!?” 

You nearly fall, stumbling back thanks to your jeans acting like a rope around your feet, he jumps forward. He manages to grab your waist and yanks you flush against him, you shudder. 

“Joel. . .” you say again, nuzzling his chest. Joel’s brows furrow, something feels. . . off. “Joel,” you parrot and inhale him. You start rolling your hips, nuzzling your face into his chest. Every muscle on his body grows taut. “Joel, I need you to fuck me,” you breathe out. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I–I—” you look at him with teary eyes. “I accidentally ate an aphrodisiac petal and now I can’t stop. Please.” 

“How the hell do you eat that accidentally?” there’s a slight teasing lilt to his voice, one he can’t help. Smiling, he pushes his hand between your thighs, feeling you with his fingers. He groans. You’re soaking wet. “Fuck—how long were you going at it sweetheart?” 

“I have no idea,” you answer, you inhale sharply when he traces a circle around your aching clit. “Please, I need you.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes yes,” you say quickly. “Please, I think I might die if I don’t feel you splitting me into two, Joel.” 

When your tears catches along the fabric of his shirt, he cradles your cheek and wipes it away with the pad of his thumb. He shushes you. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. Don’t worry,” he unclasps his belt with one hand. “You’ll be feelin’ good really soon.” 

You sigh in relief, “O-Okay.” 

You don’t have time to feel embarrassed. 

Joel buries himself deep with one smooth thrust. He has your legs shaking around the width of him in an instant, your ass planted firmly against the hard surface of the table. You flutter around him. His head drops, your foreheads pressed together while your noses touch. You moan in relief. 

“That good?” 

“So good,” you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck. “More, please.” 

He doesn’t make you say it twice. The slam of his hips deafens you, his cock sliding in and out with ease. Your body feels as if it’s burning from the inside out. Arousal constantly coarsing through your veins. With every thrust, he goes deeper, drilling himself into you. He nips your chin, then kisses the corner of your lips. Your brain vaguely signals you that he’s holding back and as soon as you get the memo, you fully press your lips against his in an all consuming kiss. Joel slips his tongue between your lips. He tastes like coffee and vanilla, you can’t get enough of it. 

As he licks himself deepr into your mouth, you feel his fingers deftly circling your clit. With a jolt of pleasure you break the kiss and moan loudly, your legs starting to shake. He sets a frenzied pace, the bulbous head of his cock hitting a spot so deep that you’re seeing stars. 

“You gonna come for me?” he groans, pressing into your harder. “I wanna feel you, wildflower. Let me feel how wet you get for me—” 

His teeth sink into your neck and you’re gone, thrown off the ledge by his hands. You pussy throbs almost violently, you feel wetness growing between your legs, dripping down his length as he continues to fuck himseld deeper into you. 

“Atta girl,” he hums. “You feel so good, honey—fuck,” Joel pulls out and after a few firm strokes, he spills over your stomach, his head falling to your shoulder. You shudder at the way his spend trickles down your skin, mixing with the mess between your legs. 

“Oh god, that felt incredible,” you say as your head starts to clear. But with the fog lifting, subtle hint of embarrassment also start to appear. “J-Joel, I’m so sorry—” 

“Don’t,” he cuts you off and lifts his head, starting directly into your eyes. “You have nothin’ to apologize for. That was delightful, better than I could ever imagine.” 

“Still. . .” you argue, drawing your brows together. “What I did wasn’t exactly professional.” 

“I didn’t come her for professional,” he smiles, cupping your cheeks. “I came here to spend time with you. Alone. If you catch my drift.” 

“Oh,” you answer, and when his words sink in, you grin. “Oh. . .I catch your drift alright.” 

He nods and helps you off the table, “Good. Now, I brought you some croissants but they’re probably all mushy by now.” 

“We can order in? I know this great burger place.” 

Your cheeks feel warm as he holds out his hand, “That sounds great, wildflower.” 

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #hbo the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction

[cheolism]

his reward

➳ boo seungkwan x reader

➳ summary: after a long day, seungkwan decides to seek relief between your legs

➳ wc is approx 4.3k

➳ warnings/tags: minors do not interact. idol au. dom! seungkwan, service top! seungkwan, bottom! reader. pet names (baby, angel, good baby, good angel)(kwannie). mentions of video game-typical violence. oral (bsk giving), fingering, praise. pussy drunk seungkwan. spitting. face-riding. masturbation & cumming on body. intentional lowercase

➳ request: "no rush but it would be great if u could write something abt dom seungkwan cause there’s a drought of seungkwan fics esp dom ones . . ."

➳ note: i tried to fit dom! kwannie, and i hope this was what u wanted plus still fits and suits him!! thank u for the request, and i hope it fulfills what u wanted !!!! <333

night had fallen on the city, the only light in your bedroom coming from the streetlight directly across your apartment building and the television. you had long tuned out the show you had put on, eyes narrowed in on your phone. 

the shower squeaked, drawing your attention away from your pubg game for just a moment. you listened as the shower door squeaked as it slid open, signaling the end of seungkwan’s shower. 

then there was a sound of a bomb from your game, and your eyes were back on it. you and seungcheol made your way around the building, crouching, your eyes on the horizon. 

“still playing that game?” 

you hummed in response, eyes darting up. seungkwan was running a towel over his hair, wrapped tight in a bathrobe. your bathrobe, to be honest, but the two of you had long dropped any attempts at organizing your wardrobes. especially after an incident where you wore a hoodie to meet with soonyoung and jeonghan at a grill, only for seungkwan to turn around and wear the same hoodie the next morning to a group practice. 

the robe, due to it being yours, was short on him. while it went to your calves, on seungkwan it brushed against the back of his knees. the fluffy sleeves revealed his fine wrists, seemingly framing them as if they were a masterpiece, drawing all your attention to the way he held his hands, the way his long fingers tousled his hair back and away from his face. 

“we’re gonna beat wonwoo for good,” you returned, looking back at your game. seungcheol’s character hopped into a jeep, the border that surrounded the map closing in. you quickly followed, letting him drive away. “we got mingyu right away.”

seungkwan snorted, turning and going back into the bathroom. “good. that jerk needs to be knocked down a few pegs.”

you grinned a little, biting down on your lip. feeling warm, you kicked off the comforter. you had already taken off your pants for the night, leaving them at a heap at the bottom of the bed. the weather had taken a turn for the better, to the point where you could now open the windows during nighttime, letting a gentle breeze fill the room.

seungcheol drove the jeep next to a cliff. you both jumped out of the vehicle, spinning your characters around to try and see if you spotted any enemies. 

you shifted, setting your feet flat on the bed and raising your knees up. 

there was a gunshot in the game and both you and seungcheol were turning towards it. you began firing in the general direction, offering a distraction for seungcheol to get the chance to snipe the enemy. 

the bathroom sink turned on and off. seungkwan began singing, his sweet voice filling the apartment and making your heart flutter a little. 

he always sang with such power, always commanding the stage. so you treasured the moments where he sang in his lower register, his voice sweet and honey-smooth, full of sincerity and making you feel as if you were the only person in the world. 

the approaching enemy defeated, you and seungcheol turned back to watching the horizon for more enemies. 

a sharp gust of cool spring wind filled the room, making your curtains flutter and your body shiver. you could feel the cold air against your clothed cunt. you stuck one of your feet back underneath the blanket, tempted to grab it and cover yourself again. 

seungkwan continued to sing as you and seungcheol shot down another enemy, the lovely lyrics to one of the group’s ballads filling your ears. absentmindedly you began to sing along, albeit quieter than seungkwan. while you constantly boasted your boyfriend’s many, many talents, you were conscious where yours were lacking. 

you didn’t notice when seungkwan stopped singing, your own voice carrying on the tune. it wasn’t until the bed shifted, his weight displacing it, did you stop and glance up. 

seungkwan was watching you, eyes sharp. his hair was still damp, sticking up at odd places. his face was slightly red from his skincare routine, and you could smell his orange blossom lotion. 

“kwannie?” you looked back down at your phone. you and seungcheol ducked into a house, the faint song of gunfire disrupting the overwise quiet bedroom. “why’d you stop singing?”

your boyfriend sighed deeply. you steered your character onto the roof of the building, laying flat on the top and watching as two enemies neared it. 

“today was really stressful,” seungkwan began in that coy voice of his that told you that your boyfriend had something in mind. so you stayed quiet, eyes still on the roaming players. “it was long and never-ending. but i endured it.”

you grinned a little, glancing up at seungkwan. he was looking at you still, body turned completely towards you. you dropped your legs, letting them splay out, knees against the sheets. “it’s hard sometimes to tolerate days like that,” you agreed, wiggling your toes. “i’m proud of you for sticking through it.”

“thank you,” seungkwan said, moving. you could see the figure of his body as he stalked up the bed, nearing you. “i think i deserve a special something for enduring it. don’t you?”

you nodded, shooting down one of the players as they tried to walk up the stairwell that led to your roof. “you do! do you wanna go to the cafe tomorrow? that little one that has the bread shaped like fruit?”

seungkwan hummed, one of his hands settling on your foot. he tapped his finger against your foot thoughtfully. “that’d be good, baby. but i was thinking about a reward more accessible, something i can have now.”

“we can have some of that frozen yogurt in the freezer,” you suggested absentmindedly. seungcheol’s character walked up the stairs, jumping for you to follow. “i think it goes bad in a week anyways.”

“frozen yogurt does sound good,” seungkwan drawled out. he wrapped both of his hands around your ankles, clenching slightly. “but i was thinking about something even better than that.”

brow furrowing, you glanced up at your boyfriend in confusion. you didn’t keep many treats in the apartment, finding that one of your boyfriend’s groupmates would sneak in at some point and eat all of them before you could even have a first. 

seungkwan liked it when you did his nails, liked it when you pampered him. maybe that’s what he wanted?

then a sly grin overtook seungkwan’s features, his eyes getting an impish glint. before you could question him he was yanking your ankles, pulling you flat on the bed. 

you squealed out his name in shock, phone dropping on your chest. you could hear gunfire from your game. 

seungkwan wedged open your legs, shouldering his way between them. he grabbed your phone, turning off the sound before he exited the game and tossed your phone down the bed. 

“seungkwan!” you gasped, eyes wide. you and seungcheol were in the top five and wonwoo was still alive and you still had to get him --  what on earth was seungkwan doing? seungcheol was going to be so pissed, wonwoo was going to win, and the two of you would have to endure another week of wonwoo silently teasing you. “what are you doing?!”

“having my special something,” seungkwan replied, hooking his arms around your thighs and pressing them to the bed, baring your pussy. seungkwan pressed forward, shoving his face into your clothed cunt. 

you were mortified, even moreso when you could feel seungkwan take a deep, shuddering breath against your cunt, breathing it in. he nosed against it, your cunt shamefully clenching and fluttering in response. 

you could practically feel the heat pool in your cunt and turn into fluid, could feel as it leaked out of your hole and stained your underwear. 

“that’s it,” seungkwan murmured, taking another deep breath as your arousal soaked your panties. he hummed a little, pressing his closed lips to your cunt. you could feel the vibrations of his mouth through your panties, your toes and fingers curling in response. 

“getting so wet for me already,” he said, pressing a closed-mouthed kiss over your cunt. you let out a gasp, your hand coming up and muffling the tail end of the noise. if you couldn’t control the way your cunt acted, couldn’t control the fluid that gushed from it as if you were at a damn waterpark just from your boyfriend sniffing it, then at least you could try and be quiet. 

“kwannie,” you breathed out, still keeping your mouth trapped behind your hand. “what are you doing --”

“my reward for being good,” seungkwan responded, burying his nose into your cunt again. all he was doing was smelling it like some sort of depraved man, as if the two of you didn’t have sex multiple times a week, as if he had been waiting all day just for the chance to smell your cunt. 

“how --” you broke off, closing your eyes and throwing your head back. you counted to five in an attempt to gather yourself. “how, seungkwan, is smelling my -- how is this a reward?”

“your pussy smells so good, baby,” he murmured, angling his head. he brushed his nose against your clit, and even though you still had your underwear on, the sensation sent a jolt through you. “i think about it all the time, you know. your pussy, how it feels around my cock. how it feels around my finger, how it tastes. fuck, how your cunt tastes.”

then seungkwan’s tongue was running up your cunt, from the bottom to your clit, sticking your underwear against your pussy. you couldn’t help the loud moan that left you, nor could you help how your back arched up into the air in response. 

“just stay there,” seungkwan said, pulling back. his hands went to the ties of your robe, pulling them undone and shrugging it off. seungkwan pushed it off the bed with one hand, the fingers of his other hand going to your cunt. he dipped his fingers around the fabric, letting his nails brush over the warmth of your cunt. “just sit still, baby. please? let me take my reward.”

you shot him a look, fingers flexing on the sheets. “kwannie --”

“please,” he whined, making his way back between your legs. he tugged at your underwear, pulling it lopsided. “lemme taste your cunt, baby. been thinking about it all day, been thinking about it since i woke up. please let me eat your cunt.”

your heart stopped, mouth dropping open at the frankness in his voice and in his words. seungkwan pressed forward, his mouth kissing your cunt through your underwear once more. 

“okay,” you gasped, hand shooting out to still him. “okay. just. just let me taking them off before --”

“before i rip them?” seungkwan finished, the mischievous smile on his face so at odds with his normal personality. he looked smug, watching as you slowly brought one of your legs up towards your chest, hooking your fingers through your underwear and guiding them down. “good baby,” he praised, eyes intently watching as you revealed your cunt. “good baby.”

seungkwan moved up to his knees again, coming to rest beside you on the bed. he cocked his head at you when you were still, patting his chest. “well? are you going to sit on my face or not?”

slowly, more aware of the way your pussy juices were leaking out and onto your thighs at a constant rate, you moved your way up the bed. you straddled his chest, standing on your knees to reach up for the headboard. 

seungkwan’s hands settled on your hips, guiding you up the rest of the way to stand over his face. he maneuvered you to how he wanted you, and when you could feel his warm breath against your bare cunt you couldn’t help the little moan that escaped you. 

“that’s a good angel,” he praised you, voice low. he lowered you until you were properly sitting on him. 

“kwannie,” you sighed, nails lightly scratching into the wood of the headboard. “don’t -- don’t get carried away, okay? remember, two taps if you can’t breathe.”

“i remember, angel,” he murmured. his fingers pressed into your skin, his touch lighting you aflame. you’ve begun to wonder when his imprints would finally sink in, when his fingerprints and hand-shape would leave a permanent mark on you. it was so often, after all, that seungkwan was touching some part of you, as if he wanted to leave his touch branded on your skin. 

seungwkan nudged his nose against your clit. immediately your muscles were tightening, your hips bucking up a little. seungkwan chuckled against you, and you could feel his arms flex against you as he tightened his hold around your middle, keeping you seated on his face. 

seungkwan ran his tongue along your cunt in one long broad stripe, the slurp that accompanied the action so lewd that it made your toes curl and nails dig into the headboard. he dug his nose into your cunt, next to your clit; his chin bumped against your cunt as he shoved his tongue inside of you, gathering your juices and sucking them. 

“kwannie,” you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut. he ran the flat of his tongue over your hole, causing a wild shiver to wreck your body. “seungkwan, seungkwan.”

your boyfriend responded by wrapping his lips around your hole and sucking, causing your cunt to clench and your back to arch. helplessly you grinded down, subconsciously seeking relief; seungkwan, ever the giver, provided, shoving his tongue back inside of you. 

seungkwan ate you out like a man parched, sucking your juices into his mouth and reverently searching for more. he ate you like a glutton, seemingly never filled, his tongue rolling along and inside your cunt endlessly, never relenting. 

your hips were constantly moving, rolling down onto his face. seungkwan’s nose kept bumping against your clit, every nudge causing your nerves to jump and your body to sink further on top of him, seeking out the electricity that only seungkwan seemed to be able to provide. 

his arms relaxed for a moment, moving to hook around your thighs. seungkwan shifted you up and off of him. you glanced down. 

your boyfriend was absolutely covered in your cunt juices, from his nose to his chin. his face was a deep red form the effort he was putting into devouring you, lips gleaming and puffy. seungkwan’s eyes were dilated, trained on your pussy still. he brought one of his hands to his face, wiping at his nose. 

his fingers came away covered in your juices. seungkwan hummed, sticking them into his mouth and suckling. 

“seungkwan,” you groaned, brow furrowing. you released your hold on the headboard to reach down and tug at his hand, drawing it from his mouth with a crude pop. “don’t. ‘s dirty.”

“no more dirty than eating out your pussy, baby,” he replied. nonetheless seungkwan hook his arms back around your thighs, squeezing as he tried to coax you back into sitting on him. “i’m not done, angel. sit back down.”

slowly you returned to your -- in seungkwan’s opinion -- rightful spot. immediately his mouth was on your cunt again, acting as if your hole was your mouth, kissing it and making out with it. he was worshiping your pussy, eating from it, ravishing it. 

seungkwan moved his arm from around you, his fingers skimming down the curve of your ass. he slid his hand between your body and his face, fingers poking at your hole. 

you couldn’t help the loud moan of approval that left you, nor could you help the way you immediately grinded down on his fingers. he slipped one inside your hole, and you were quickly overcome with the feeling of hunger. 

you clenched down on his fingers, searching for some sort of relief from this famine that was coursing through you. his name was a mantra, your chants filling the room as his finger filled your cunt. 

“‘nother, kwan,” you gasped, lifting yourself off of his face and dropping back down on his finger. you repeated this, hips searching for something to satisfy your craving. “please, kwannie, another.”

seungkwan hummed against you, his lips busy mouthing at your clit. for a moment nothing happened, his tongue rolling over your clit and slurping at your pussy juices. 

then his second finger slipped in beside his first. you moaned, quickly moving so his fingers pressed against your core. seungkwan began curling his two fingers inside of you in tandem with the movement of his tongue on your clit, trying to coax you into an orgasm. 

but you were hungry now, and it would take more than just two of his fingers and tongue to satiate you. 

“more, kwannie,” you begged, bracing yourself on the headboard. you continued to move your hips along the length of his fingers, your cunt so wet that they practically glided. “another, kwannie. another, another, please.”

seungkwan the arm wrapped around you to lift you, shifting his hand beneath you, then he hooked three of his fingers against your hole, tugging, and you couldn’t help the cry that escaped you. 

“that’s it,” he praised, pulling you back down so his nose was bumping along your pussy. “that’s a good angel.”

your whole body seemed focused on your cunt, concentrating on these points of contact between you and your boyfriend. you couldn’t think anything other than him, couldn’t sense the headboard you were grabbing or the blankets beneath your knees. you could only feel his fingers sliding along your walls, pressing down on your core, his tongue flicking at your clit. 

then seungkwan adjusted, moving and wrapping his mouth around your clit. he sucked once, twice, three times, your loud moans music to his ears, and you were collapsing against the headboard, body sagging as your orgasm finished. 

seungkwan tapped your thighs, reminding you that he was still beneath you. you shifted, moving throwing out your leg so you were no longer straddling him. you leaned back against the headboard, eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath. 

a dirty popping noise had you opening your eyes. seungkwan was perched on his knees in front of you, his erection red and straining against his stomach. he was wiping his face with his hand, pressing his fingers into his mouth and sucking your juices off of his digits. 

you watched, weary, as your boyfriend noticed your gaze and stopped sucking. a slow little grin overtook his face, and then he was grabbing you. 

seungkwan pulled you flat against the bed, wrenching open your thighs. you gasped, eyes wide, as seungkwan pressed himself back between your legs. “seungkwan, what are you --”

“‘m not done yet, angel,” he promised, pressing his face back into your cunt. he immediately latched his mouth around your hole, suckling and tonguing. 

still sensitive from your orgasm, your back arched and your legs flail about. seungkwan growled against your cunt, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pressing them down to the bed. 

“be still, baby,” he said, his mouth pressing against your pussy, his every word sinking into you. your cunt gushed around him in response, and his tongue quickly began lapping up your juices. 

you couldn’t do anything other than toss against him, body wriggling as overstimulation set in. you were aware of the blankets twisting around your body, of how your hands were constantly scrambling against them in an attempt to get some sort of hold. you were aware of how his tongue plunged into you rapidly, how his fingers flexed against your thighs and pressed into them, tattooing his mark onto your skin. 

seungkwan lifted his head from your cunt. he was drenched once more. he ran his tongue around his mouth, gathering your slick. you watched as he swallowed your juices, watched as his throat worked. 

then he leaned back over your cunt, pursing his lips. a wad of spit dropped from his mouth to your pussy, mixing with your juices. 

your eyes flew shut and you threw your head back, the image of your boyfriend spitting on your cunt replaying. the way his bangs obscured his eyes, how his lips, red and puffy from his devotion to your pussy, curled before he spat.

his hands went to your body, kneading into your thighs. seungkwan’s mouth pressed a kiss to your stomach and then he was trailing a path of kisses down, lips gentle as he returned to your cunt. 

seungkwan pressed more spit from his mouth to your cunt, using the wetness to slide three of his fingers back in. your body accepted them greedily, and it was only a matter of time before another orgasm washed over you, his fingers eagerly drawing it out. 

you couldn’t do much more than lay there as seungkwan pressed a final kiss to your clit, your body jerking in response. he sat up, leaning back. seungkwan reached between your thighs and gathered your slick on his hand. he then wrapped his hand around his leaking dick, hissing at the contact. 

even though you were exhausted, you couldn’t help but watch as seungkwan jerked himself off. he pressed his lips together, trying to muffle his moans, trying to keep his climax at bay. 

you splayed your legs. “kwannie,” you called, beckoning. “here.”

seungkwan shuffled to kneel between your thighs. he collected more of your juices and returned his hand to his dick. seungkwan then pressed his other hand next to you, using it to guide his body down so he could rest his stomach on your breasts. you wrapped your arms around him, holding him, fingers playing with his hair. 

you didn’t see it when he came, but you felt it. his entire body stiffened save for his hand, which was working furiously over his dick. seungkwan’s moans and groans were loud, just as loud as yours were. 

when he was done, seungkwan pressed a kiss to your chest and pulled away. his cum had joined yours between your thighs, thick white stripes painting your skin and the blanket between. 

seungkwan laughed breathlessly, his hands skimming over your thighs. “angel, your cunt --”

“no more,” you begged, flinging your head back against the bed. seungkwan’s laughter was loud this time, and he pitched forward to press a kiss to your throat. “seungkwan, you’ve wrung me dry, i swear.”

“we both know that’s a lie,” he chuckled, kisses chaste against your skin. “but i’ll ignore it for tonight.”

seungkwan settled into your hold, your skin sweaty and sticking to his. you were content like that for a few moments, holding your boyfriend, brushing his hair back away from his face and gazing into his honey-sweet eyes. 

“i love you,” you murmured, hand holding his cheek. 

“i love you, angel,” he returned, turning and pressing a kiss into your palm. 

seungkwan’s phone ringing pierced the air, and your boyfriend was muffling a whine into your body. you laughed, pushing him away. “better go answer that, kwannie.”

seungkwan sighed, flopping to the side. the phone stopped its ringing, only to pick up again. he swung himself off of the bed, movement sluggish as he crossed into the bathroom. you watched his legs as he walked, watched them flex; your eyes then caught sight of his ass, and immediately you felt your mouth water. 

“fuck,” seungkwan’s curse brought you out of your daydream. you went to your elbows, concerned. he exited the bathroom, eyes wide and frantic, phone still ringing. “it’s seungcheol! he’s worried because you aren’t picking up your phone and you quit the game suddenly and he texted and said he’s on his way and he’s going to take one look at us and know!”

you sat up completely, wincing at the mess between your thighs. “know what? that you’re some pussy hungry demon?”

seungkwan flew about the room, grabbing the discarded towel he had used for his hair. he went about drying off his body, trying to get as much sweat off of himself as possible. “this isn’t funny, y/n! holy shit, fuck, fuck, fuck --”

“i’ll get dressed --”

“no!” he whirled on you, pushing you back onto the bed. “you look like -- well you look like you’ve just been fucked. you just stay here and pretend you’re not here.”

“ah, yes,” you began dryly. seungkwan hurried to the closet, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and hurriedly pulling them on. he stumbled a big, falling against the wall. “i’m totally not in my apartment that i signed the lease on at ten at night.”

“you’ve got it!” seungkwan praised. he launched himself across the bed, reaching out for you and pressing a kiss to your lips. 

then someone -- seungcheol -- was knocking at the apartment door, and seungkwan flew off of you. he fell of the bed, the noise loud and thunderous. 

he was out of the bedroom in a flash, his feet slapping against the hard floors as he ran for the door. you could hear him, his voice high and frantic and not at all concerning, as he greeted seungcheol. 

you could hear seungcheol’s voice, as deep as it was, all the way from your bedroom. “is everything okay, seungkwan? i was playing with y/n and suddenly they disappeared. i tried getting a hold of them, but there’s no answer from their phone.”

“ah!” seungkwan shouted, voice shrill. “they’re just uh -- they fell down the stairs and dropped their phone and it smashed!”

well, you thought, flopping back on the bed, you could either have a boyfriend who gave amazing head, or you could have a boyfriend who was a good liar. you couldn’t have both. 

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